#and the opening part and some of the scenes were very triggering

[klemen-tine]

Glass Bones and Paper Skin

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

More Platonic Bruce x Reader than Batfam, but they are mentioned and will have a bigger role in the future.

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect

Just a reminder for everyone, your bodies are perfect and beautiful! Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Part 2

Part 3

Blinding lights and hundreds of eyes are enough to thwart people from the runway. It makes people stumble, trip, or even run from it. Their mind focuses on if they mess up, the world will see. Their managers, agencies, everyone will forever refer to it when they ask them to walk for them again. 

They focus on their walk, the way the clothing either hugs or drapes off their bodies, how the shoes don’t fit, the way their hair is styled, and how the makeup can burn. They try not to focus on how their stomachs ache, how the heels cut into the thin skin on their feet, and that everyone in this room that is dressed and prepped, are equally or more or less beautiful than them. 

Y/N L/N seemed to be the topic of conversation at all of these events. A newer runway model who has been eating it up. From their first runway debut to this one, they have always left people in awe and dropping to their knees for more. It is hard to believe that they are only 18. Y/N has been a photoshoot model since 15, but on their birthday when they turned 18, they finally agreed to their agency’s desire to make them take on the runway. 

It was the best choice for their career. Y/N’s manager was the daughter of their mother’s manager, back when she was alive and used to do modeling. Her manager threw her own daughter at Y/N, and stated that they were the best people to work with because they know Y/N. Whether Y/N was cursed or not –they have yet to figure that out– has nearly the same exact features as their mother and the same ‘air.’ One that demanded everyone to pay attention to them, and is a natural for posing and had a natural strut. 

They’ve been right, and Y/N doesn’t know if it is because of them that they all made it this far. They knew what looked best on Y/N and what wouldn’t work. They knew which designers would adore them and which designers wouldn’t fit. 

Those who know Y/N though understand that the ‘air’ was only on the runways and photoshoots. Y/N is actually a very demure person, while not a wallflower, they were someone who could blend in the crowd. 

Alfred once told them that every country should be grateful to not have Y/N working against them, because Y/N can just disappear. 

“Y/N, are you ready?” They smiled at their fellow models, slipping into the person of Y/N L/N, child of M/N L/N and Bruce Wayne, and nodding, “Of course. When am I not?” 

Cheryl whistled, a fellow model that has been Y/N’s mentor in some way, walking around Y/N and smiling, “Designers sure know how to dress you up. I think almost every runway walk has had your hips on display” Y/N chuckled at her, “It’s because of these hips dips. You can probably drink soup out of them.” 

“If it was ice cream I’d be down, but not soup.” Jon was another model who has been in the scene for a long time. He was a handsome man with a diamond face. 

“Models get ready.” A shuffling of feet and high heels clip clopping sounded in the backstage, and Y/N took their place in front of everyone. They will be the one opening the show today, an honor that the 18-year-old took gratefully. 

Opening a show was a big deal, setting the tone for the show in general and also the tempo. Y/N took a deep breath, and at the cue, their mind went blank as they began walking. Their eyes focused on the end camera, and the walk on beat to the music. Once at the end, they looked directly into the camera and struck a pose. Highlighting the slit hips and underboob design, showing off the almost sheer fabric that had the slightest hint of shimmer in them. A statement piece. 

Turning around they walked back to where they emerged from, making sure they kept their face in control for the last camera. However, a sight at the corner of their eye momentarily broke them out of their blank space. Five familiar people that should not be here. Sitting in the front row, wearing nice tuxedos, and almost making Y/N stumble. 

Almost. Controlling their features, Y/N returned their focus to the camera and disappeared in the entrance they emerged from. Smiling at all the 'congratulations’ ‘you looked great,’ ‘you look beautiful,’ they went back to their manager, Maya, and whispered, “I need you to confirm five people in the front row on the left side. They are four chairs down from the camera.”

Maya nodded, scurrying away and without a doubt checking it out. Y/N could feel the curiosity and dread build in their stomach. If they are who Y/N thinks they are, then the after party is going to be interesting. 

“What’s wrong?” Jon wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, bringing Y/N out their thoughts, “Nothing really. Just thought I saw some familiar faces.” Jon made a weird face, but dropped the issue when another model, Logan, strolled on over. 

“Did you see them?” 

“See who?” 

“The Wayne family! They are in the front row!” Y/N closed their eyes in misery and a headache began forming. They saw Maya running back, her face pale and a large frown on her face. Jon glanced at Y/N, taking in the annoyed expression and scrunched nose, “Hmm, no I didn’t. I was too focused on looking at the camera, Logan.” She rolled her eyes, “Oh, it was only a second.”

Jon and Y/N gave each other a dry look, remembering the last time Logan had said that and somehow the camera managed to snap a photo when she was oggling at someone. Y/N shook their head, “I momentarily saw them, but I didn’t think it was them. Do you think I can get the oldest son’s number?” 

‘You’re not his type.’  Y/N thought but didn’t say, shrugging and smiling in amusement, “Logan, what would your girlfriend say?” The model stuck her tongue, “She’d ask to join.” Before Logan could say anything else, Cheryl waltzed over, “Stop being inappropriate, there’s a kid present.” 

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, if you can’t drink yet you can’t have this conversation.” Y/N made a face, “That’s the stupidest sense of logic I have ever heard.” Everyone laughed at them, clapping Y/N’s shoulders and helping each other fix their wardrobes. Some stylists came over to fix their makeup and hair just in case. Everyone was getting ready for the last walkthrough, and honestly, Y/N was dreading it. 

As the front runner of it all, Y/N’s face will be seen by the now confirmed Wayne family and Y/N isn’t confident in themselves enough to not make a face. 

The show will be closing soon and then there is the afterparty that all models are expected to attend. It's a networking place, where other designers, brand ambassadors, and just people who are rich enough to get a ticket can talk to the models and try and recruit them. Its a place and time to mingle for those who have an open schedule and unfortunately, Y/N has an open fucking schedule. 

This was their last show in Paris, and then they have one destination and then it will be done. Runway season will be officially over and then it will be smaller gigs and back to the every now and then runway. 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took a deep breath and fixed their face, eyes forward and chin up. 

‘I’ll call Alfred when I get home.’ 

+++

‘I want to go home.’ Y/N nursed the drink in the flute, filled with sparkling cider instead of champagne. They stood off to the side, changed out of the clothes they wore on the runway, and instead in a deep-v top and leather pants. Still dressed to impress, but at the moment they just wanted to curl up and go away. Y/N’s hotel room has a bathtub in it and Y/N really wants to just sit down in hot water and relax. 

Y/N was constantly scanning the crowd, moving further against the wall whenever they saw black hair and blue eyes. 

Maya said one more hour, then it will be acceptable to leave. She was doing all  the talking and networking for Y/N, trusting that when it came to meet the designers Y/N will charm them enough to want to have them keep coming back. Sighing once more, Y/N took a longer sip and wished to be home. 

Something moved the hair near their ear, and Y/N almost threw their glass at whoever it was until they caught sight of blue eyes and black hair, staring at and analyzing them. 

“Tim…” 

“Hello, Y/N.” Y/N gave a practiced and polite smile, “Odd to see you here.” Tim shrugged, “Seeing that the designer is friends with Bruce, and told us of your show and that you will be leading the walk, of course we had to come.” Y/N nodded, “In Paris?” 

“Where else? You’re next one is in New York right?” Y/N gave a polite chuckle, “Since when did you pay attention to fashion week?” Tim took a sip of champagne, “Since my younger sibling decided to run off and become a model.” 

Y/N took a sip of the sparkling cider, not missing the way Tim was eyeing them with interest and curiosity. They smiled against the rim of the flute, “ ‘Run off’ huh. I don’t think those are the words I would use. I never hid it and I didn’t pack my bags in the middle of the night and sneak through a window.” Y/N set the empty flute down, still smiling politely at Tim who was still watching them, “I simply walked out the front door and no one stopped me.” 

“Y/N–” 

“Y/N! There you are!” A tall woman, hair dyed a shade-off from white gray and wearing the crispest red suit, strolled over. Y/N gave a larger smile, opening their arms and welcoming the hug, “Ms. Gabbana, you look lovely as always.” The woman laughed, “That’s the botox. Anyways, you looked so amazing opening the show!” 

Tim was quickly forgotten as Francesca Gabbana, an Italian high-end fashion designer and luxury brand owner, chatted away with Y/N. Her presence called forth other designers and models and soon enough, Y/N was entrapped in a small group talking about the next runway show next week. 

They talked about the dreaded flight to New York, and where they will be staying. It will be Francesca’s show next week, along with some other high end designers. Francesca seemed particularly excited for Y/N’s, and when Y/N first saw the design, they had to hold back the shivers.

“Right, Y/N you’re from Gotham aren’t you? Will you be visiting your family?” With the attention all on Y/N, they smiled tightly and shrugged, “We’ll see. They are always so busy so I think it's best if I don-” 

“I hope Y/N visits, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.” A large hand clapped Y/N’s shoulder, and from the facial expression everyone was making, Y/N knows who it was. Peeking up through their lashes, Y/N could see Bruce’s smile on his still handsome face. 

Cheryl was the first to recover, her eyes narrowing slightly, “How… how do you know each other?” Y/N glanced at Bruce, who right now is Brucie, and before he could say anything Bruce gasped, “Y/N, you haven’t said anything?” The young adult shrugged, “It never came up. Bruce Wayne is my father.”

The room erupted, and Y/N actually wanted to go die in a hole. What proceeded afterwards was the most intense questioning for the next two hours. 

++++

“Bruce, why are you here?” Y/N asked over dinner. He tossed the crouton around in his salad, waiting for his father’s response. They have never had a 1 on 1 meal together. It was alway family meals, and even then Y/N rarely showed up for those. There was no need too. They never noticed when Y/N was there or not. 

The Billionaire playboy shrugged, “Is it wrong to see my child open a highly sought after show?” Y/N chuckled, “No, but you have never shown any interest in this before.” Y/N never hid his modeling gigs. Often using the family weight room to keep in shape and also turned one of the unused offices into a strut practice room when Y/N lived in the manor. Hours and the amount of money spent to ensure their skin was perfect and their hair was nice, and that they looked beautiful. 

Y/N never hid their modeling job, even as a teen, and yet the only one who seemed to notice was Alfred. 

“You never said anything.” 

“I didn’t think I had too.” Y/N can recall trying to show Bruce, Dick, Jason, anyone that would bother to look, a photo of them making it onto Vogue. Not the cover, not yet, but as a newer model within the prestigious magazine. They made it at 16. 16, and only modeling for a year! Francessca had them in a piece that was first page worthy, and it fit Y/N like it was meant for them. 

Alfred was the only person to look at the magazine Y/N held open with their trembling hands, and ruffle their hair and congratulate them. 

“You didn’t even tell Alfred where you are living.” No, because Y/N doesn’t want Alfred showing up unexpectedly and seeing the almost empty fridge. The thought of the older man’s disappointed look and inquisitive questions would have Y/N breaking down crying. 

“Hmmm, I’m always moving around so I didn’t want him showing up when I am not there.” Bruce nodded, taking a bite of his lobster, and watching Y/N take a small bite of the salad. Y/N swallowed with great difficulty, “Bruce-” 

“Since when does a child call their parents by their first name?” Y/N sucked their teeth, “The only one who calls you ‘father’ is Damian.” 

“You used to.” Y/N shrugged, “You never seemed comfortable with me calling you that.” Bruce rarely answered when Y/N called him ‘dad’ or ‘father,’ and yet he alway responded when someone else called for him.  Y/N would watch from afar as Bruce came running to them in need, but when Y/N needed help they had to figure it out on their own. 

At some point Y/N stopped calling for Bruce entirely, running and calling only to Alfred.

Y/N is not mad about it. They never were. Dull E/C eyes accepted it and pushed forward, watching the explosive fights, the angry words, and the silent apologies. Alfred’s words affirming that they all loved each other, despite everything saying otherwise. Y/N watched, and continued to watch as they focused on themselves when Y/N began making a name for themself. 

They’re not mad. Y/N never was. Hurt? Maybe, but not mad. That is just their hand in life. Besides, it made the modeling career easier. No need to worry about missing any events, Y/N wouldn’t be invited even if they had lived there. Holidays weren’t huge, nor were birthdays. The only one Y/N sent a card to was Alfred. 

It made traveling easier. There was no such thing as homesickness. It made taking more gigs easier, more destructive behavior easier to handle. 

“Y/N,” Bruce called to him and Y/N paused while eating. Raising an eyebrow in question as Bruce set down his own eating utensils. Ocean blue met E/C, and Y/N tried to place the emotion in those blue eyes. 

“For what it is worth, I… I am sorry about the neglect you have faced within our home.” Y/N’s mind stopped functioning and they stared at Bruce in shock. The man either ignoring him or not realizing that Y/N was staring at him continued. 

“You… you didn’t deserve that, especially when you were grieving and that fact that I could not see that shows my fail–” 

“Wait wait wait!” Y/N held their hands up, cutting off Bruce, “What are you talking about?” Bruce stared at Y/N with questions in his eyes, and blinked in shock when he saw the genuine confusion in his child’s eyes. Y/N looked floored, “Bruce… I-I… what?”

Bruce knows he’s not a good parent. He is intimately aware of his failings and shortcomings, and how some of them haunt him. They claw into his skin, his mind, and chest as a reminder of all the times he has failed his children. He and Dick barely started talking, Jason and him are slowly mending that bridge, and Tim and Damian seem to hate each other and Bruce doesn’t know what to do about that. It seems the only children he hasn’t officially fucked over are those that aren’t even his. 

Then there’s Y/N. A child of his genetic makeup, just like Damian, only Y/N’s mother was a model Bruce had treated as a hookup whenever she was on the east coast. Y/N was 13 when they came into Bruce’s care, older than Damian and a few years younger than Tim. Their mother was caught in a drug-use scandal, one that cost her her career and then her life. Her choice left behind a traumatized child, walking in on the body as she decomposed in their bathroom. They had been forced to pack up their bags and move across the country to live with a parent that they only heard about once or twice. 

Bruce somewhat knew of Y/N. He knew that Y/N’s mother had been pregnant, but when he asked if she wanted child support, the woman huffed and said ‘no thank you.’ Her income was enough, as a high in demand supermodel, and she didn’t need Bruce’s ‘pity’ money. 

So, he never sought after her and she never phoned him. 

Until CPS called and told him of the news and the now homeless 13-year-old child he was now in charge of. 

Y/N and him never really connected, and Bruce wonders if some of that is his own fault. He was always too busy with Batman, then his drama with Dick, and Jason’s whole dying thing, the persona of Brucie Wayne, then there was Tim, then Jason coming back from the dead thing, then Barbara’s whole Joker incident, then Damian…. 

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t too busy, he just never made time for Y/N. Which, the other never seemed to complain about. If they did complain to Alfred, the butler never said anything, and neither did their brothers. Y/N was just a ghost living in the manor that showed up for meals because it was expected, and then… left. 

Now he sits here, across from his child who doesn’t seem to understand the wrong done to them by not only Bruce, but the rest of the family. 

“Where did this come from?” Bruce doesn’t have the heart to tell them that it was because of Alfred that Bruce and the family finally realized what was wrong. The tour of Y/N’s old room, still kept clean due to Alfred’s insistence, but instead of clothes on the ground and signs of life within the room, it had photos of Y/N's past modeling gigs. Hundreds of photos, some framed, some not, as they covered the walls. Magazines that had Y/N on the front cover, magazine pages that had Y/N taking up the entire page.

The tour of the room-turned-practice room. Full of mirrors, and a 4 inch wide ply board used to practice walking. The shoes that were hidden in the closet, some too big and some too small. Blood staining the heel area of most of them as the image of Y/N practicing until and through the blisters filled all their heads. 

The meal regime, still written hastily down on the post it notes, and the exercise routine that didn’t match the calorie intake. The broken mirrors in Y/N’s closets and the clothes that now looked like they would be too big on the present-day Y/N that is sitting in front of Bruce.

The written blogs, printed and folded in one of their drawers, relating them back to their mother. Accusing them of the same thing they accused M/N. Highlighting Y/N’s faults, Y/N’s mistakes, Y/N’s features, and Y/N’s heritage. 

‘Child of drug-abuser model M/N L/N, Y/N L/N using the same drug?’ A 15-year-old Y/N posed in a way to show their figure was the picture that was used. 

‘Child of famous model M/N L/N able to hold up to the heat?’ Another photo of a 16-year-old Y/N looking exhausted as they walked out of a building. Eyes red and bags under their eyes. 

‘Beauty genes skipped a generation.’ Y/N is 17 in that photo. 

‘Y/N M/N will never be as beautiful as M/N L/N without extensive work.’  Y/N is 15 again in this photo. They had kept every critique, every mean and poorly written article about them, and kept them. Some of them were tweets, printed instagram photos, and magazines. 

Bruce could see the drastic changes in Y/N throughout the photos. The strict lifestyle changes affected their appearance and made them look even more like M/N. The Y/N in front of him, still beautiful, but Bruce knows the thoughts behind the perfect skin and perfect hair. 

It would seem that one of the things Y/N inherited from Bruce would be the internalizing of every little bad thing to happen, and deny that it has affected them while they wore the scar of it on their sleeves. 

“Bruce, you didn’t neglect me. I had food, clothes, a manor… where did you get all of that from?” 

“Emotional neglect is still neglect.” Y/N still looked confused, setting their fork down and controlling their expression as they processed that. Okay, so yeah maybe Bruce wasn’t an attentive father, but the man never hit Y/N. He never said anything about Y/N that Y/N would have to go to therapy for. Besides, Bruce’s lack of attention paved the way for Y/N to do this! 

Y/N’s lips formed a serene smile, “Bruce, I’m not mad that you didn’t pay attention to me. You were busy with your company, you are legally a dad of five kids, not everyone is going to get the same attention.” They took a sip of the water, hoping the conversation would end there. 

“It wasn’t that I was busy, I just never made time Y/N… and for that I am sorry.” Y/N hates this. Absolutely hates this. All of their excuses for Bruce are being shot down by Bruce himself and it was leaving Y/N feeling a little raw. Wounds they didn’t even know about now being rubbed with salt. 

Y/N stuck their tongue in their cheek and looked around, before smiling once more, “Bruce, I am literally giving you a way out for your guilt, which I still don’t understand why you’re feeling guilty, so why aren’t you taking it? 

“What are you hoping to do?” Bruce stared into E/C eyes and he could see the irritation in them. He set his fork and knife down, and leaned forward, “Is it wrong to try and mend broken bridges?” 

“The bridge was never broken in the first place.” 

“You’re right, and that’s because there was never a bridge in the first place.” Y/N cocked their head to the side, watching with an intense expression. Those E/C eyes flickering around, taking in the restaurant and narrowing their eyes, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but did you rent out the entire restaurant?” 

“I did. So we can talk freely.” 

“The other ‘customers’ are Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Bruce nodded, “Family dinner.” Y/N’s smile held no amusement, “You know, if you were anybody else I would be thinking this is a way for you to slide back in my life in hopes you could get some of my paycheck. But what is a model’s paycheck to Bruce Wayne’s?” Bruce chuckled, “You are making quite a bit. I’m happy you're conscious of your position now.” 

Y/N sipped the water, “How do you know how much I’m making?” Bruce only smiled and continued eating. He watched his child contemplate asking the question again, but then decided to drop it. 

‘Smart.’ Y/N continued to watch him, no longer touching the food and seeming unwilling to even look at the dessert menu. 

“You’ll visit when you’re back in the states, right?” It didn’t feel like a question. In fact, it felt more like a demand poised as a question to keep intentions hidden. Y/N gulped, “I’ll try.” 

“You should, Alfred misses you. Besides, Manhattan, New York isn’t too far from Gotham.” It was such an innocent sentence. One spoken with a smile on his lips and kind sky blue eyes. An innocent sentence, except Y/N has never once told them where they live. 

“A beautiful place, I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave. With windows like those and that giant skylight, it is truly a wonderful place befitting a top model such as yourself.” Y/N’s mouth went dry, and they could feel the sweat on the back of their neck as they continued to stare at Bruce. Their instincts implore them to go along with this. 

Urging them to carry on the conversation as they felt the gazes of four others on their back. They gave a wobbly smile, “Ye-yes. I really love it, I am super lucky that I managed to have enough saved up, and that I make enough to own a beautiful home such as that.” Bruce nodded, “As an apology for all the missed birthdays and Christmases, I decided to help out a bit.”

“...Excuse me?” Bruce ignored them, and instead looked at their plate that was still untouched from when Y/N had put down the utensils. He took a bite, “Do you not like your food? I can get something else made for you.” 

“N-no, I’m-I’m just full.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed before making a show of shrugging it off, “If you insist. Do know Alfred will want to feed you when you visit.” Y/N’s smile was becoming hard to maintain, “It was a pleasure to have dinner with you, Bruce, but I have to go. Long flight tomorrow and I need to be ready for next week.” Y/N fished out their credit card, but Bruce stuck his hand out, “Don’t worry about it, dinner has been paid for.” 

Y/N didn’t fight, only nodding and smiling pleasantly, “I suppose I will see you next week?” Bruce stood up, and brought Y/N into a tense hug. Feeling the bone and sinewy muscles in his rough hands. Y/N’s top is open back, exposing the shoulder blades and some of Y/N’s spine. Each one a small knob against skin, looking like the Rocky Mountains. 

“Safe flight, Y/N. See you at the shows next week.” Y/N gave a tight smile and quickly left. The four other pairs of eyes never left their back, and when finally in the safety of the streets, Y/N pulled out their phone and checked their Mortgage app. 

‘Successfully Paid!’ In bright green letters, bolded as if it were a game. 

It’s been paid off. Y/N now owed nothing on that house, and while that might have been freeing, it meant someone could now have access to their mortgage account. An alert sounded on their phone, and when Y/N saw that it was their bank account, notifying them of a deposit Y/N felt the breath leave their lungs. 

A large sum, one that had Y/N blinking at the amount of 0’s, was just deposited to their checking account. Right under their bill for walking on that runway. 

‘Shopping money, for when you visit.’ - Dick 

They have access to their bank account. Y/N’s family, because while Bruce was a solitary kind of guy he never was one to withhold information from his former Robins, now had access to their account. They could see what they were spending money on. 

They know where Y/N lives. From the sounds of it, Bruce was even in the penthouse. Y/N covered their mouth and tried to stifle a sob, the feeling of an invasion of their privacy weighing heavy in their chest. 

++++

Y/N stared at the article of clothing with anxiety. When Francesca had first shown them the clothing, it had only caused slight discomfort. Now, now that Y/N knows that their family is here, and watching, the clothing had felt like it was a metal ball. Francesca stood next to them, admiring Y/N’s hair and makeup, and how it all looked with clothing item. 

“I knew this would look great on you. As a Gothamite, this must feel great right? To be wearing the symbol of your City’s greatest vigilante.” Y/N swallowed down the bile, “He’s typically seen as the boogeyman, but yes. I suppose it does feel odd wearing the symbol.” 

The piece of clothing was quite scandalous, a bat symbol made out of gold rest across their chest, attached to a black silk fabric and lace. It hugged their body, bringing out the hip dips and long legs, as well as exposing their toned stomach. 

“Why didn’t you say anything about you being Bruce Wayne’s kid?” Francesca asked, and Y/N could only shrug, “Just… it just never came up.” Y/N loves that Francesca drops that. There are tons of models who have family issues. Y/N’s are minor. 

Not worthy of anything. 

“Y/N, for what it is worth, I do think you are a one in a century model. No one has taken to the runway quite like you have. I think if you had started the runway earlier you would already be a supermodel.” Y/N smiled at Francesca’s kind words, and they wondered just how they got so lucky to have befriended her. 

“Thank you.” 

“Models get ready!” Y/N took to the back of the line, being offered to close the show just after they had opened one. Another prestigious offer that Y/N gratefully took. Sighing heavily, they watched as the line grew shorter and the sound of cameras flashing and grew louder. 

Taking a deep breath, they steeled their breathing and controlled their expressions. Blocking out the world in the way they do best, strutting. The intensity of the flashes increased, and Y/N made a show of keeping their face neutral. 

Just how Batman does. 

They made a point to not look at the people in the front row. When they made it back behind the entry way, there was no time to catch their breath. They were ushered back into line for the final walk out, and Y/N wonders if they can all see how pale Y/N is. Can they see the sweat on their brow or the fact that their E/C eyes are terrified? 

“You did great Y/N!” 

“Looking beautiful Y/N.” 

“C’mon Y/N, after this its a party!” 

No, no they can’t see it because they are all focused on what Y/N wants them to be focused on. Y/N has spent countless hours into ensuring they loook beautiful without makeup, and ethereal in it, no one will care about their inner thoughts and turmoils. 

Y/N strutted to the music one last time, focusing on the flashing light and hoping that the photos they captured showed exactly what Y/N wants them to see. Once they were in the back, the models stripping and changing into comfortable clothes and all of them getting ready for the afterparty, Y/N stayed seated. The pads of their fingers running against the cold metal that was in the shape of a bat across their chest as their makeup artist and hairstylist undid all of their work. 

Francesca smiled, “You were great Y/N, I knew you would be the right person to pull this off.” 

“Thank you, what inspired this piece if you don’t mind me asking.” Francesca smiled, “Oh, I got a call actually. It was just a call to run the idea by me, but I loved it so much that I accepted it.” Y/N furrowed their brow, “A call?” They began to strip out of the clothing, but Francesca’s startled look made them pause. 

“...What?” 

“You’re not going to keep it on?” Y/N gave a confused look, “We don’t keep clothes, Francesca.” The stylist smiled, “Well, no. But Y/N, that was a commission for you.” Y/N stared at Francesca with a new found fear, and their mouth going dry as they processed it all. 

“Who… who did you say the call was from?” Francesca beamed, “Your father, who by the way I am offended you didn’t say anything about, Bruce Wayne.” Large hands clapped their shoulder, and Y/N would have shouted if it weren’t for the familiar smell of cologne. 

Turning around, they met Bruce’s blue eyes, and the blue eyes of their siblings. All of them dressed to the nines and eyeing the clothes. 

“Truly a wonderful piece, Ms. Gabbana. I could not thank you enough.” 

“Of course! Thank you for the idea!” Y/N felt their breath quicked when Dick’s hands gripped their wrist, and gently tugged them in his direction, “C’mon Y/N, you’ll be late to dinner. Alfred is making your favorite.” 

“At least let them change, Dick.” 

“Todd is right, a drive in that would be difficult. Not to mention that  it is snowing outside.” 

“Y/N, we have some clothes for you. They should be more comfortable then the clothes you came in.” Y/N couldn’t even say anything as they were dragged away, Bruce keeping Francesca busy while their brothers pushed them into a changing room. Dick smiling gently as he passed the bag of Y/N’s clothes, taken from their penthouse, into Y/N’s trembling arms. 

“Bruce paid for that outfit, so try not to ruin it, okay? We’ll be waiting out here for you.” Dick booped their nose, and left Y/N alone in the changing room taht only had a curtain for a door. With trembling hands, they searched the bag for their phone. They have to call someone. Cheryl will help them. So would Jon. Maybe even Maya! Y/N just needs to call– 

“Y/N, we have your phone out here, so don’t panic.” Y/N bit their lip to stop themself from sobbing. One thing. They just want one thing to go right today. 

A knock sounded on the wood that was hoolding the curtain, “Y/N, do you need help?” 

“N-no! No, I’m just try-trying to be gentle with the piece.” Bruce hummed, “Well, try and hurry. Alfred is excited to see you and is expecting us for dinner in three hours.” Y/N gulped, carefully stripping and putting on the sweats and hoodie. Clothes that still smell like their laundry detergent and shoes Y/N knows were in their closet. 

‘Dear God.’ They whimpered as they slipped on the comfortable pair of shoes, and bagged the shoes from teh show, and carefully picked up the article of clothing. The gold bat symbol shining mockingly at them. 

The curtain pulled open, and like a horror photo, the light from behind them casted and eerie shadow. Bruce’s face hidden in teh darkness as he reached his hand out for Y/N, knowing full well his child cannot run. 

“C’mon Y/N, time to go home.”

______________________________________________________________

A Part 2 will definitely happen! Kinda has to, to be honest.

[quaintii]

To be with you is all I want.

Warnings: breeding kink, slight choking, p with plot, fem!reader. Very passionate smut below! A slight spoiler of Atsv. torture, bodily harm, and blood!!! trigger warning !!!

enjoy 💖💖!!

You and Miguel have always been each other's partner in capturing anomaly's. Yet Miguel always suggested that you stay back, away from harm. But you continuously refused his request, you couldn't be inside your apartments, walking around in circles, wondering if he's fine or not. Worry runs through your bloodstream, every second, same goes for Miguel but worse. He worries every second that you'll die because of him.

In the middle of the night, you kept rustling back and forth in your bed, trying to grasp onto something. Someone. You immediately wake up and realize Miguel has gone off to a mission without even warning you about it. You are furious and quickly put on your suit and ask Lyla to find out where he is. You swing your way into a weird, black-noir universe. It looked bleak and darkly cynical. You figured that Miguel was using Spider-Man noir's backup. The atmosphere was so thick, you almost choked as you weren't adjusted to some multiverses. You caught a whiff of smoke and fire.

Your Spidey senses then took the lead and you finally found where Miguel was. You were incredibly furious with him but you couldn't think of that right now. Miguel was fighting Morlum. You've constantly heard slight whispers about him, especially from Miguel. What you can take from what you already know, Morlum has tried hijacking the multiverses and he is seeking to find the spider totems and take control of HQ. You swing your way in but your Spidey senses react too slow to a crashing wall heading your way.

Luckily, you crotch down to avoid it as best as you could. It leaves quite a big injury on you though. Your forearm now has a big open slit trailing down in blood, due to the concrete building. It was a deep cut. When Miguel felt someone else at the scene, he happened to lay eyes on you, he was worried you would severely bleed out. The blood wouldn't stop. His eyebrows furiously furrowed together and he clenched his jaw and tried his best to focus on Morlum. Spider-noir was throwing many walls towards Morlum, trying to crush him to pieces. Mush.

Miguel used his red lasso and webs to tie down Morlum's legs together, causing him to fall down. But Morlum uses his super strength to make the floor below him fall. Ensuring his legs to finally let go. The floor completely crumbles and produces a ton of dust. You wipe your dust off your suit and can seem to see anything. Your hearing is very sensitive so they start ringing as metal scratches at each other due to the collapse. You sense someone near you and before you have time to turn around and web them, they hold your back against their chest.

"Wow, you sure seem like a good piece of bait for me to use!" Morlum says enthusiastically. "You look pretty cute too..too bad I have to kill you." "NO! No, get your fucking hands off her, you fucking shitbag. She's not a part of this, let her go." Miguel yells.

Morlum holds a knife at your throat so suddenly, you shiver with terror, running through your blood. Your flight or fight turns on, and you don't look like you have an option. This man has such a strong hold onto your body, you can't even let alone, move a muscle. "You seem to be quite concerned about this woman, well that puts you to more use!" Morlum chuckles. Miguel's eyes filled with absolute trepidation. His breathing becomes rougher, he begins to hyperventilate. He can't imagine ever losing you, he can't lose another dear loved one again. He can't imagine the pain of two, let alone one. Morlum pushes the knife closer into your skin, carving a light line. Miguel's jaw clenched harder than a rock. He didn't know what to do and he didn't know where spider-noir went.

You were trembling with fear, tears swelled your eyes. You felt like this was all your fault, because you're always so stubborn and never bother to ever listen to Miguel. Your lips quiver as you bite down on your lips, hard enough to draw out blood. You felt like all of this was a dream, you hoped for it to be one. Miguel moved a few inches, trying to grab you out of his grasp. Morlum then threatened to stab you in the liver if Miguel moved any closer. Miguel's body felt like he was being stabbed with thousands of knives. Morlum would make small cuts around your body, some deep, some shallow. Miguel yells "Mierda!" with a hurtful tone, he secretly advises Lyla to send backup immediately. He was too scared to breathe, fearing he could easily lose you in a second. You both stared at each other, a wholeheartedly look within fear hiding behind it. Miguel was trying to reassure you that everything was going to be ok. "Esta bien, mi vida. Te voy a sacar de esto, te lo juro, amor. Amas quedate quieta." Miguel's expression was drowning in helplessness.

"She seems like quite a trophy, Miguel! I can see you do have quite a taste." Morlum licks your cheek and nibbles a bit at your neck. Your huge discomfort grows more and you can't stop crying. Miguel was revolted by this, clenching his knuckles till his blood went cold, white. He felt like his jaw was about to lock and break. "Don't touch her! You keep your repugnant self away from her." Miguel yelled with an immense amount of hatred. Both of your guys' Spidey senses tingle as you feel other Spidermen approaching the situation. They all work collectively to pick up a razor sharp platform, sending it straight towards Morlum's head. Before Morlum could sense what was coming towards him, you immediately tuck your head and his grip on you releases. His head was sliced off clean. Blood guzzling out of his body. Before you could fall weakly on your knees, Miguel runs towards you, carrying you in his arms bridal style. He hugs you so tightly and you both tear up together.

"I thought I almost lost you, amor. I can't ever imagine losing you, ever. You're my everything." Miguel says as he places you grabs ahold of your cheeks, wiping away the blood and tears off of your cheeks. Giving you long, passionate kisses to you. Pecks on your forehead too. The amount of reassurance made you feel more at ease and comfortable.

Miguel continues to carry you in bridal style on the way home. He opens the window to your guys' bedroom and heads to the bathroom. He keeps showering you with a lot of love and reassurance. "Mi amor, te amo, por favor nunca vuelvas a hacer eso. Mi corazón ya mero se murió. Te amo demasiado, princesa. I couldn't bear seeing you being hurt, ever. I love you so, so much." He said while holding your body from behind. You were between his thighs, you laid your head back onto his chest, hearing his heart thump loudly. The bathtub was so warm, you could stay like this with him for hours. You loved Miguel. And he loved you too.

Both of your bodies emit more heat and the warmth calmly engulfs you both. You were both now clean, Miguel got out first and dried himself off. Despite seeing him nude multiple times before, you loved seeing him like that. He then wrapped a bath towel around his lower waist. Then grabs your hand and lets the water drain. He wrapped a towel over your body. Letting you stay warm. Then he dried yours and his hair with the hairdryer. You loved how much he put focus and care into you. You would return the same back too by giving him massages, going out on walks, seeing movies, etc.

Miguel then caught your eyes wandering around his body, he slightly smirked. "Take a picture to look at me for longer, mi vida." Miguel said while sneering. "Porque? Cuando te tengo enfrente de mi, cariño. I can't ever take my eyes off of you, you're so handsome." You say while heading towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and rustling his hair. He then pushed his lips against yours. Unfolding a deep, passionate, needy kiss. Your tongue wrapped with his. The smell of skin filled your nose, your fluttering heart thumped more and more. The soft taste of his plump lips on yours, his warm embrace against your chest as both towels fall on the floor. His gentle hands reaching your body, aching to be touched. His hands roams to your neck and hair, proceeding down to your hips. You then jump onto his chest and he grabs a hold of your hips. You both try not bumping into the door and open it while still kissing.

Your mind was starting to turn dizzy and foggy. He gently placed your chest on top of the bed. Giving you pecks and small bites along your spine, making you shiver. He softly turned you around. Both of your guys' lips magnetized. Not letting go, not even for a gasp of air. Miguel positions his back against the bed frame, pulling you on his hip, holding you in a lotus position. Your chest touching him enlightens fire down your core. Your nipples perked from the amount of arousal growing down your core. "You're the most beautiful, sosphicasted, intelligent, erotic, loving woman I've ever known and loved my whole life." Miguel said with a soft tone. Whispering it in your ear. Nibbling it softly, pulling out small moans out of your mouth. "Susurro estas palabras solo para que el mundo las escuche. Tu eres mi mundo entero, mi amor." Miguel said while groaning against your neck. Your head slightly goes back, you bite your lower lips. "Miguel, please more.. I want you to touch me more." You say with a hint of desperation and begging. "No muñeca.. we have the whole night to ourselves right now. Let me cherish and worship your body.

Miguel slides his fingers across your cunt, pulling it to your face. You moan to the touch of his rough fingers on your slick wetness."Look how soaking wet you're for me, cariño. Let me put that pussy to use, si? ¿Quieres eso, amor?" Miguel said softly with admirable eyes boring into yours. You nod slowly, groaning as he picks you by the hips. He then placed the head of his cock against your entrance. Your cunt twitched at the heat emitting from his breath against your neck. He then slammed you onto his cock, reaching your cervix.

You feel your body's nerves crashing down, the pleasure makes you feel so full. You moan erotically against Miguel's chest, cursing under your breath. "F-fuck Miguel, I feel you in my stomach.. you're so big. It's t-too much f'me.." you say between pants. "I love having you like this muñeca. I can't ever lose you, understand?" Miguel said softly. "God your body does unimaginable things to me, cariño." He cups his rough, big hands around your ass, slapping it as he begins bringing your hips and down his cock. Miguel stared at your beautiful face, saying incoherent words and the seductive expressions you would make. Your mouth being agape, gasping for air as Miguel would push every oxygen in you out of your body with a simple thrust of his cock. Your cunt spasms as Miguel grabs your throat softly. "Look at me, amor. I wanna see your pretty face getting fucked." Miguel said with a lustful tone. His eyes never let go of yours. You tried your best to not roll your eyes to the back of your head and kept eye contact with him.

More fire enlightened deep inside your core when Miguel's cock twitched when you reached for his neck, nibbling on it, leaving hickies. Miguel returning the same for you. Both of you are groaning and moaning, loudly. Not having a care of who could hear the both of you. The pleasure was towering over your body and your cunt uncontrollably spasms when Miguel said, "Cum around my cock for me, amorcito. Do it. Make me cum. I want my babies inside of your gorgeous body. M-mierda.." As you ride your orgasm out, Miguel's pace fastens, leaving you with tremendous overstimulation that leaves your throat choking out screams and wails for him to stop. A few more thrusts and he finally pumps his seed inside of you. Small droplets of tears leave your eyes, Miguel wipes them away by kissing them. "You did good f'me, baby. I love you so much." "I love you so much more than you could even imagine, Miguel. Te amo cariño."

Miguel finally pulls out of you, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. Miguel then grabs a couple of small towels to clean you up. He then gave you your loungewear as he clothed himself with his boxers and shorts. You tie up your hair into a messy bun, then turn to lay beside Miguel. His arm hugging around your body, pulling you close. His chest against your face, both of you easily fall asleep.

:33 hai guys this took me Abt 1 hr n a half to do! This was really fun to do, please send more requests! Love u all ! <3

[buckgasms]

Dr's. Barnes and Rogers (Part 1)

Don't worry I am already writing part two I just needed to set the scene before we get to the goooood stuff 🩷

This is doctor kink territory y'all 💦

Tagging @biteofcherry for being a wonderful enabler. Thank you for bringing this out of me and many others with one simple question 😂

@zonkie-bee

Just note this part contains mentions of pregnancy, fertility talk and a gaslighting ex-husband (he's not in it tho). If that might trigger you just give me a day and the next chapter will be just pure filth.

You sat in the waiting room of the Barnes & Rogers Clinic, feet tapping nervously. You were here to have a fertility check up, already feeling like you knew the sad truth.

Your ex husband had been certain that you couldn't have children, that the process of trying to have a baby had been made more painful for your failures. He was a dick. But the doubt and worries continued to plague you.

Finally a friend gently suggested you go to the best fertility clinic in the city. Then you could get actual answers and real solutions. It took some persuading but you decided to try it. What did you have to lose?

At that moment the office door clicked open and Dr. Barnes popped his head out. "Are you my 10am appointment?" You nod and he steps back, and you shuffle in, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are at how absolutely gorgeous he is.

You take a seat on the comfy couch, as he sits in an armchair across from you. You try to relax as he welcomes you and picks up his paperwork.

"So, your papers say you're worried about your ability to conceive? Are you married or trying for a baby currently?" He asks, a strand of hair falling into his face as he looks at you with kind, professional concern.

"Um... No not married anymore. That's um.... That's why we split. I just wanted to know...if it was...me? My ex said.... It was me..."

He nods, a glimmer of anger seems to cross his features. "It's never anyone's fault sweetheart..." you smile a little, a flutter in your stomach but then he moves on. He asks questions about your diet, physical activity, and of course your previous attempts at trying to get pregnant. It brings up some painful memories and he is very sympathetic and gentle with you.

"I know this is hard, you're doing so well. Don't worry sweetheart, we'll sort all this out together ok?" You look at his sweet, handsome face and smile. You feel better already. After a further few questions he leads you into his consultation room and explains the tests he's about to conduct.

The big examination bed with stirrups looks a little intimidating but his hand presses at your lower back and guides you with more confidence. "I need to take a sample, which might be a little uncomfortable but I'll do my best to be gentle ok. Just take off your skirt and underwear and get comfortable in the stirrups." He heads out of the room and you hear him chatting to another man in the corridor.

After a few moments you are legs akimbo and feeling a bit ridiculous. But the leather beneath you is soft and smooth, and the room is warm so you feel as comfortable as you'll ever be. He comes back in and he clears his throat at the view of you.

From his perspective the most beautiful perfect angel is laying spread out on his chair, her most intimate parts there for him to enjoy, but for you, you just feel nervous.

"Ok sweetheart, just relax while I check you over. Don't be embarrassed about any reactions you might have. Totally normal." You huff out a laugh and scoot down at his guidance, goosebumps breaking out as you feel his warm breath fan over your intimate area.

The way he probes you makes you bite your lip as you try not to moan. It's honestly the best pelvic exam you've ever had. By the time it comes for him to take a sample you are almost totally unaware of why you are there in the first place.

When he announces he's finished you are mortified to hear yourself whine in disappointment. Thankfully he either doesn't here or pretends he doesn't so you can chide yourself for being such an embarrassment as you get dressed.

"Ok sweetheart, I'll give you a call once we get the results." You shake his soft hand and he squeezes it gently as you smile and make you way out of his office.

⚕️

So here you were a few weeks later. You felt so nervous because when Dr Barnes called you he didn't actually tell you the results. He just told you to come in because he needed to discuss things face to face.

Finally the door clicked open and you were greeted by the handsome face of Dr Barnes. You smiled tightly as you walked in but were surprised to see another doctor sitting in the office on the couch. "This is Dr. Rogers, I wanted to have him here for this consultation, I hope that's ok?"

You nodded,trying to ignore how gorgeous both these doctors were before dropping your bag to the floor and sinking into the seat. It must be really bad if it takes two hot doctors to tell you what's written on that paper.

"Are you ok sweetheart?" Barnes asks, looking concerned at you, reading your mood as Dr Rogers turns towards you, his face also reading concern. Your eyes well up and you sink backwards into the cushions. "Can you just get it over with and tell me I'll never.... That I can't...." You broke into sobs and they both came over to you, rubbing gentle hands over your back and shoulders.

"Oh honey! No! I'm so sorry, it's not like that at all!" Barnes curses and squeezes your shoulder. You hiccup a sob and look up at them both. "What do you mean?" Dr Rogers tuts and grabs the paper from his colleague. "What my partner has stupidly failed to mention to you is that, you are in fact very much able to have babies and you don't have anything at all to worry about in terms of your fertility..."

You glance between them both, Barnes looking sheepish and Rogers looking concerned before collapsing into a combination of sobs and giggles. You can't stop laughing from sheer joy and tears of relief slip down your cheeks. Both of the doctors chuckle in surprise at your reaction. Once you calm down a more comfortable mood fills the room.

"I've always wanted a family of my own. Thank you, I feel like I can have that again now..." You smile at them both and they smile back, "just need to find the right man huh?"

"Well what about another route?" Doctor Rogers draws your attention his way and you cock your eyebrow at him. "What would that be?"

He settles back emanating confidence and professionalism, Barnes reclaims his seat and watches. "We have a trial programme, you can sign up for an insemination and we will monitor you from now until the birth of the child or children. There is considerable remuneration and you can even be provided with new accommodation should you desire it..."

You were dumbfounded. You'd never heard of anything like this before and it certainly sounded life changing, but pretty amazing at the same time. "There has to be a catch?" You say suspiciously, unable to believe this is actually real.

"Well, the insemination process is... revolutionary so it requires some open minded thinking..." Barnes says and you feel a bloom of excitement in your stomach as he looks at you.

"And once the baby is born? Is there still help or monitoring? Or are we just out in the world alone?"

You chuckle but they seem to take it quite seriously. "Absolutely not! We... I mean the programme is very interested in the life span of the child. Besides if you are successful you might want to have another perhaps?" Rogers tries to act casual but you feel like you've stumbled on something there.

Barnes hands you an envelope. "Inside is all the information plus the potential candidates for the donors. Take it home, read it and if you want to take part, call me. If not, no harm done."

⚕️

At home you spent a little while pretending to ignore the envelope but finally you caved and had a read through.

There was very little information about the medical procedures other than the things you might expect. Thorough examination process, compatibility, tests and so on. The next set of documents were mostly about the remuneration which almost made your eyes pop out of your head. Thirty Thousand dollars for the first year! All medical costs covered! It also detailed the new accommodation which sounded like the most luxurious apartment on earth. It was almost too good to resist as you looked around your rented studio flat, your instant ramen going cold as you read.

Finally there was a piece of paper that detailed the potential donors. Only two in fact. A tall blonde, with blue eyes, physically fit and a doctor! The other was a slightly shorter brunette, with blue eyes, physically fit.....and a doctor....

Oh...

⚕️

Part two

[tswaney17]

Little Heir

@duskwhisperer and I are so excited to share “Little Heir” with you for @azrielappreciationweek day one, the family you make.

Thank you, @ruisfree for collaborating with us and bringing this piece to life. Still smiling and kicking our feet over all the creative details you added. We loved working with you! 💕

This commission and fic were inspired by the adorable idea of Azriel catching Nyx sneaking Aunt Elain’s cookies late at night. 🍪 We wanted to capture Azriel trying not to smile while Nyx guiltily looked up at him. With the scene set in Elain and Azriel’s kitchen, we thought it would be perfect to show Nyx’s artwork on display. And of course, we couldn’t resist showing our appreciation for a shirtless Az. 😏 We truly hope you adore this piece as much as we do.

Do Not Repost

🎨 @ruisfree | Comm by: @duskwhisperer & @tswaney17

Characters belong to Sarah J. Maas

~~~~~

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Trigger warnings: mild NSFW language, tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1,177

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read here.

Azriel felt the pull even in his deep sleep. That urgent tug that something was amiss. He knew the feeling of his shadows trying to drag him from his slumber. Had experienced it for years.

He very nearly growled at the disruption, until a single shadow curled around his ear, whispering their secrets.

The heir is awake. He wanders the house.

That had his attention, his eyes blinking open and seeing the sky outside their bedroom window still stained deep blue and purple, the sun not yet basking over the eastern mountains to grace them with its presence. The moon’s glow across the floor indicated it was still very late at night or in the wee hours of the morning. Far too early for the nearly five-year-old to be out of bed.

Why Nyx was awake, he didn’t know, but he’d soon find out. Azriel carefully detached himself from Elain’s warm body. Her brows furrowed in protest, a wordless sound passing through her parted lips as he slowly slipped away.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[alicent-vi-britannia]

Lelouch's relentless search for purpose in life

I've previously talked to you about Lelouch's trauma through the enneagram to explain why Lelouch refuses to open up and trust others and insists on doing everything alone to feel self-sufficient and strong. I've also used the enneagram to explain that Lelouch has locked himself into a protective shell and is uncomfortable feeling vulnerable because of his trauma and his upbringing in Darwinian values ​​in Britannia. However, I haven't talked to you directly about one thing that is very important and perhaps because it is so obvious I have overlooked it until I stumbled upon a small thread on Twitter.

In the last conversation Lelouch has with his father, Charles nullifies the meaning and value of his existence by telling him: "But you're dead. You've always been dead, from the moment you were born. Who gave you the fine clothes you wear, a comfortable home, the food you eat, and your own life? I gave you all of that. You are nothing to me because you have never existed." At that moment, Charles kills Lelouch in symbolic terms, causing him enormous psychological and emotional damage from which he never recovers.

We have this flashback in episode 7 of the first season and later Lelouch threatens CC with suicide if she does not let him go to face his sister, Cornelia: "Until I met you, I was dead. A corpse that existed behind a false appearance of life, a life in which I did nothing real. I experienced the emotions of living day to day as if I were a zombie, with the feeling that I was dying little by little. And if I have to go back to that, then I prefer… [And he places his finger on the trigger of the gun]." The series connects those two scenes through a Dutch shot focused on Lelouch's gaze. The Dutch shot is a steep horizontal tilt shot that is used to indicate instability or danger or that something is not right. In this case, it warns us, on a superficial level, that Lelouch has felt dead since his last meeting with his father and that he has been fighting against that (unfounded) belief and these negative feelings and, on a deeper level, that this is a wrong and harmful belief of Lelouch's that has been poisoning his mental health ever since.

(It's sad to compare the two shots. Little Lelouch's eyes show deep pain. As the Bart and Lisa Simpson meme says: it's the exact frame in which his heart broke. Teenage Lelouch's eyes, on the other hand, are empty. A dead look.)

There are several moments in the story that give us an idea of ​​the young prince's struggle. For example, in the first Audio Drama, "The Uninvited Prince," a young Suzaku rescues Lelouch from some children who are beating him and reproaches him for not standing up for himself and disregarding the hospitality his home provides him and his sister, to which the child Lelouch replies, "I am here and I will live. If I live by my own strength, then I will never be dead again." Little Suzaku, of course, finds Lelouch's statement absurd and just thinks he is a strange child. But this response reflects the boy's insane desire to be self-sufficient (to the point of rejecting the help of others) in order to feel that he is alive (remember that Charles told him that he is alive because he has given him everything he has).

We also have a Picture Drama (I'm sorry I don't remember or have the exact number of the PD, but if it's part of the alternate universe, we can ignore it because they are different universes that shouldn't be mixed) with a monologue by a teenage Lelouch: "I've made a vow to use the strength I have to save Nunnally. That will be the proof that I exist in this world."

These words evoke in me a part of Lelouch's song "Back to Zero" (for the fantastic Code Black album in Ashford) in which our hero sings: "Oh! Can you hear me? This fight is how I know I'm alive."

That is, Lelouch tries to prove his father wrong by looking for a purpose to live that reaffirms his existence and, in principle, Lelouch finds it in Zero and the rebellion since they are the means he has to destroy Britannia and create a kind world for Nunnally. And that's why later on he abandons Ashford Academy, the Zero mask and his friends and gives in to depression (in the future, I'll talk about this moment in more depth in another analysis). Then his goals change and his motivations are reconsidered for a series of reasons and events that I won't stop to explain here, but I will point out that I find it interesting and moving how Lelouch goes from clinging to a purpose in life to giving up on it and dying, in order to fulfill his new goals, obtain results and atone for his sins (the magic of a powerful script and a narrative arc, Larry).

Also, all of this explains why Lelouch lost his temper in the season 1 finale when Suzaku yelled at him that his existence was a mistake and that he needed to be wiped off the face of the Earth. Not only did it bring back memories of Vietnam for Lelouch, it was another important person to him who was denying his existence. Suzaku's words hurt him because, as President Snow said in the Hunger Games trilogy, "the people we love the most are the ones who destroy us." I'm not sure if Suzaku knew what Charles told his friend since Lelouch never reveals his secrets to anyone (people around him, including his loved ones, find out on their own), but Suzaku certainly hit a sensitive button that mentally unsettled Lelouch.

Poor Lelouch. He just wanted his existence validated.

[natt-writes]

~5 Writing tips that actually help~

(These tips are meant for fiction books, especially fantasy. so if you’re writing nonfiction a decent amount of these won’t apply to you. Sorry!)

Find your writing voice.

one of the biggest issues I find in things written by beginners is a lack of emotional connection with the narration. Sure the story can be great, but without personality, without looks into the characters minds, without little quips here and there, it really isn’t all that interesting. Something that really helped me to realize this was a book called the tragical tale of birdie bloom. It’s a kids book but it honestly has such a good narrator (and storyline tbh) that you can look past the little kiddy-ness. I recommend you check the book out if you’re looking for some inspiration. I will be making a post about how to develop your writing and character voices soon so if you want some extra help with that, stay tuned!

2. Get to know your characters.

I know that you all probably already know this, but characters are one of, if not the most important part of a book. Readers don’t want to read about a flat, boring character who just feels like a vessel for the horrifying amount of trauma you add to your story. They want to read about people that feel real, people with flaws and feelings and hobbies and backstories. When I wanted to develop my characters I started going through the drafts, the plot outlines, everything and seeing what the characters did, said, felt. Then I took their basic backstory and started lining things up. Like if a character decided to get into a fight with another character, I would see what had happened to them that might have caused this. Maybe they had been abused as a child and thought that any disagreement meant they had to fight for their life. Maybe this person reminded them of a former enemy. After you start to figure out what connects the characters to the big plot points, you can then start to develop subtle things. You could start writing something, realize this situation would have triggered a character, and then drop subtle hints towards them feeling uncomfortable. Go nuts with it, after all you can never over-analyze a character.

3. Describe things uniquely.

Descriptions are what help us to understand what’s going on in a scene. They can tell us about the tasty drink a character is enjoying, the slick dress that someone is wearing or the way a characters muscles tense when a certain someone enters the room. But sometimes descriptions a fall a bit flat and that can ruin the experience for the reader. Something I always try to remember is to try and come up with new words describe something, for example; “her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown.” Is a very basic and over used description, instead you could try; “her eyes sparkled as she sat across from me, gleaming a rich chocolate shade as the light from the candles reflected off of them”. This is a much stronger sentence as it gives both environment hits and a description of the eyes, all while staying away from overused terms. I often see this theme in stories written by beginners, things being described in a very straight forward manner. And of course this is ok once in a while, especially if this isn’t a very important topic, but it still sounds better when you branch away from that basic sentence structure. I always like to use descriptive sentences to push things forward. Here is another example; “she was wearing a fluffy green dress with lots of lace. She walked over to the door and opened it.” Vs “the lacy trim of her green dress dragged on the floor as she walked towards the door. She smiled wide as she held it open, inviting her guests into the building.” Making strong sentences is very important, so please toy around with different words, structures, etc, until the sentence fits the type of book you’re trying to write.

4. Make trauma realistic.

Yes, even if you’re writing a fantasy book, characters experiences have to be realistic. Something that always gets on my nerves is when writers come up with a good idea for some trauma, so they just give to a character, even when it doesn’t suit them at all. if you are going to give a character trauma you need to explain it, set it up so it actually fits into their character arc, then have the character actually be affected by it. They can’t just randomly be like “I got shot by a dude.” And that’s it if there is no way that character could have gotten shot given their life experiences. Also if you want a character to be relatively unaffected after an extremely traumatic event you have to plan it out so that they have a specific and consistent trauma response that makes them not react shortly after an event like that. Characters are supposed to be like people, and no two people react to trauma the same way, so you do have some leeway if necessary, but people also don’t just stay the same after something horrible happens, they are affected by it and that has to be accurately portrayed. This does get easier the more you get to know the characters though, as soon you will know how they react to things and how to plan trauma that suits them.

5. Make a plot outline.

I cannot stress this enough, make a plot outline. Making a plot outline literally saved my book, and they are really easy to make! I recommend you download a spreadsheet app like XL spreadsheets or Apple numbers but you could even use google docs if you want. You want to put in all the chapters and then give each chapter at least six spots to write scenes. Add a spot for adding the main event of the chapter/a summery of what you have to write. This will help you to understand what you have to write for that chapter and how it fits into the next chapter. After that you start to fill all the scene boxes in with your plot information. Having a plot outline is great as it can be super vague and messy, but still hold all your ideas. It also helps to prevent unnecessary rewrites later, as you can just edit the plot outline before you start writing the first draft. You can even make a plot outline after you’ve started writing your book. That’s what I did and I promise, it still is very helpful. (Example of a plot outline below.)

[eetherealgoddess]

i found your works recently and I FELL IN LOVE <333 if you feel up to it would you be able to write about a foreign exchange reader with any tr boy possibly ending in smut?

Thanks for the support! I love when you guys send requests and love!! I hope you enjoy this! ♡︎♡︎♡︎

Shoutout to @deadxyeyes for our brainstorming that led me to this idea!! The original idea we talked about was a bully au but then while I wrote the story, it became different and my brain just went on autopilot.

ꨄYou’re Never Leavingꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Foreign Exchange Student Au

❦You catch Kazutora’s eye❦

Hanemiya Kazutora x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Pretend it’s all in Japanese bc you learned the language, except when you speak to the people from your home.

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

I’ve only been an outsider to foreign exchange students visiting America when I was in high school. The reader will be from wherever you are and this will take place in college. I did a little research on studying abroad but I can’t promise complete accuracy!

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

You’re Never Leaving

Preparing years in advance for this wonderful opportunity, you finally reach the end of your second week at your new college in Japan. Excitement fills your senses as you take a selfie to send to your friends back home while sitting in the study room of your dorm. Your plan is to complete a whole year, having saved up all the money you made from working in high school for this very moment.

You’re currently sitting in a chair with a foot propped onto the mini wooden table in front of you. Your laptop open on an incomplete assignment you had been working on for the past hour, deciding to take a break. Your eyes meet the door when you hear a click, watching as a man you haven’t seen walks into the room.

You analyze his features, attempting to ignore your thoughts that begin to race at the attractiveness of the guy who entered the study room. You grab your laptop and set it on your lap after setting your phone down, continuing the paper. You keep your eyes on the screen as the brunette with blonde strands sits in the seat placed beside you.

“You’re one of the new exchange students in the dorm right?” He greets, a sly smile as he leans back in the chair, crossing his legs once his feet were placed on the table. He eyes you up and down, observing your features as well as your different aura. You turn away from your screen to acknowledge him with a friendly smile.

“Yes, I’m Y/n.” His smile seems to widen at the mention of your name.

“Y/n, Y/n.” He says, your name rolling off of his tongue as he plays with it. “Pretty name. Hanemiya, Kazutora. Call me Kazu. Say, aren’t you bored of your homework?” One of your eyebrows raise.

“Depends on where you’re going with that sentence.” You respond, giving a sly smile of your own. In all honesty, no matter where you're in the world, completing papers has never been your favorite thing to do unless it was something you were interested in.

“Let me show you a good time?” He offered, a hand raising as well as one of his eyebrows.

You give a look of contemplation with a finger on your chin. Deciding that you can postpone the completion considering it’s not due for another one or two days, you shrug.

“Sure.”

Once you packed everything, he walked you to your dorm room to grab your purse and set everything else you had aside, locking the door behind you once you got all your things. Throughout the night, he took you to different bars and clubs as well as the other hot spots in Japan, you both taking pictures with each other as you enjoyed your time together. You hadn’t known but you had already caught Kazutora’s eye from when you first moved in. The unexplainable attraction caused him to search a little more about you, though he couldn’t find much besides a few selfies on your social media.

He decided to get your attention so he could get to know you, take you out and see you in a more laid back setting besides school. He didn’t regret it, you both having a blast with each other as you drank the night away and danced. He pointed out different foods for you to try as well as feeding them to you which caused giggles that he already loved so dearly to spill out of that pretty mouth. He just knew that you’d be perfect together, your personalities fitting very well. He feels a connection he had never felt before with his one night stands and past girlfriends. Yes, he knows it’s ridiculous to be this infatuated with you and you only just met, though he can’t control how he feels.

The end of the night finally came and he walked you to your dorm. Usually he’d be in the girl’s bed, already getting to know her intimately, though he had wanted to go a little slower with you, deeming this a perfect opportunity to obtain an official girlfriend at some point. Yes, he’s moving fast but it’ll be worth it when you’re in his clutches.

“When are you free tomorrow?” He asks.

“Anytime after the morning. Gotta call my boyfriend.” You respond. His delighted expression drops when he hears the mention of your boyfriend.

“You have a boyfriend?” He questions in disbelief.

“Yeah! He’s so sweet!” You say cheerfully before dismissing yourself politely, giving him a ‘goodnight,’ before walking into your room.

He stares at the door for a moment before he turns red with embarrassment and anger. This can’t be right considering the obvious connection you two seemed to have. He can’t be wrong. How could you have a boyfriend when you had so much fun together? This is your fault for acting so casual. Your fault for leading him on. Your fault for seducing him. A vixen you are. A sneaky little serpent who tricked him. He walks away from your room to enter his own.

Over the weekend, you hadn’t heard from your new friend. A little concerned considering he stood you up the next morning, not answering your messages or calls. You let it go with slight disappointment, going on your own adventure as you toured the area, video chatting with your friends a couple of times and taking memorable pictures.

When the week began, you still hadn’t heard from Kazutora until he walked up to you during a break.

“Sorry I stood you up. Something important came up. Let’s make up for it tonight.” He says, giving a charming smile.

“That’s okay. I’m cool with that, but let’s have a chill night. I have to wake up early in the morning.” He nodded in response before you both separated and went to your designated classes.

When the night came, you both met up in the same study room you met. He brought some alcoholic beverages which caused you excitement because it helps you stay awake. You drink as you both converse and complete assignments together. As time went on, drink after drink you began to feel drowsy and hot, sweat building as the clothes on your body began to feel tight.

“You okay there?”

Kazutora had been studying you the whole night after he gave you the spiked drinks. He made sure you kept drinking by innocent friendly contests with the shots filled with aphrodisiacs, along with sleeping medication.

“I-it’s so hot in here! I’m burning up, man.” You whine as you take your sweatshirt off, too intoxicated to care that you’re only wearing your bra and pants. He smirks as he eyes your chest, ready to grab them though holding himself back to make sure the plan goes accordingly.

“Come ere.’ Let me help you feel better.” He says, motioning for you to come toward him. Your eyebrows furrow as you try to hold your head up.

“W-wait, Kazu. I c-can’t get up.” You whisper, your eyes closing as you lean against the chair only to open your eyes wide and try to hold yourself up. You look at the floor with confusion as a heartbeat forms in your panties, wetness beginning to stain.

“It’s alright, I got you.” He chuckles, standing up from his chair and picking you up, setting you on his lap cowgirl style as he sits back in his chair.

“You’re so pretty, angel.” He states, using his thumb to caress your cheek which causes a shiver to go down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders as you feel a bulge form through his pants. Barely holding yourself up you try to push back, the sensation of your whole body weakening slightly scaring you.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening.” You say as tears form. He brings your face closer as he uses his other hand to rub your back.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you.” He says as he unclasps your bra with one hand. He tosses it to the side as he eyes your hardened nipples.

“K-Kazu?”

“Relax. Everything’s okay, baby.” He flicks his tongue against your nipple, causing your breathing to pause as you look down at his mouth. He continues his kitten licks before closing his lips around the nub, sucking as he traces your back with the tip of his fingers. You couldn’t help but release a quiet moan as your hips moved against his bulge. Both of your arms wrap around his head as you lean into the sensation, grinding drunkenly as your head falls back. He continued to rub your back and suck your nipple as one of his hands moved into your pants, fitting into your panties as he parts your lips with his fingers, pressing against your clit.

Everything felt intensified, causing you to be sensitive by even the smallest touch. Pleasure engulfs you as you grind against his finger, fingers tightening in his locks as you moan shamelessly. He rolls his finger as he stares at your eyes, both of you making eye contact when your head hasn't fallen black with your eyelids closed.

“Feels good?” He whispers against your nipple, slightly nibbling. You nod your head causing him to stop moving his finger. You look at him with confusion.

“Tell me how good you feel.” He demanded with a husky voice. God you want this so bad, he can see it all over you. He just needed to hear it. Yearning for your praise.

With your hands placed on his face you lean over near his ear and whisper, “It feels so good, Kazu.”

“Yeah?” His face pink with an intoxicated look of lust on his expression, eyelids heavy without his usual smile. You nod, “Yeah.”

He continues to roll his finger against your nub, placing his lips back on your nipple as you grip his head and roll your hips. Your mouth stays slightly open as your head falls back once more in awe.

“Take my cock out. I wanna show you how hard I am for you.” He pulls his hand out of your pants as you comply, moving back to where you're kneeling on the floor in between his legs. He sits as if he’s on a throne, watching you pull his erection out after unbuckling his pants and pulling them down along with his briefs.

“See that? See what you do to me, Y/n?” You eye the length quietly, observing the veins and how the thick girth pulsates. Your pussy tingles as you feel more juices spill, leaking in your underwear as you become more turned on by the second. An intensifying heat spreads throughout your body as you lean against his legs for balance, still going in and out of darkness.

“Show me a good time.” He smirks as you nod, gently wrapping your fingers around the length. You lower your head, circling your lips around his tip, sucking lightly around the lining of the mushroom. His cock twitches in response as he gives a slight moan. You close your eyes as you fit his entire girth into your mouth, easing down your throat as your lips meet his base.

“Fuck.” He whispers, pulling his phone out as he aims it to your face, eyeing the angle through his phone as he makes sure to get your bare titties in there once he presses record.

You begin to bob your head slowly, saliva and pre cum dripping out of your mouth as you wet his dick, engulfing it in warmth as he moans, lifting his hips slightly when his head hits the wall of your throat. Too occupied with his cock you open your eyes, too high to register that a camera is in your face. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything right now. You only care about receiving his nut like the good little vixen you are.

Tired of recording, he presses the button to stop it as he sets his phone down. Using a hand to grab your head as he lifts his hips once more, pushing you all the way on his cock.

“Good. So fucking good.” He breathes as he pulls his hips back and begins fucking your mouth. Easing in and out as he accelerates. You begin to hold his thighs as he roughly thrusts his hips, becoming sloppier as time passes. Edging himself, he pulls you back abruptly.

“Take off your pants and get on me.” He says, ready to explore that pussy. You drunkenly comply as he helps you before snatching you off the floor.

“Show me what you can do.” He states, guiding his head to your entrance before you ease down, moaning as his girth stretches you out.

“Shit!” You hiss as his head immediately meets your g - spot. You grab onto his shoulders as you pull your hips back and drop down, grinding as he holds your thighs, helping you as he picks your body up and slams you back down, speed accelerating.

You both breathe heavily in each other’s ear, moaning and cursing as his hips meet yours, rutting against you desperately as he bites down on your neck.Your hands reach around his neck as you grip his shirt, scratching through the fabric with your nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed. Eyes rolled back into your head as you bounced on his cock.

“Yeah! Just like that.” He grunts, fingers gripping your skin, nails piercing as they leave indents, his mouth hanging open as he leaves open mouth kisses on your shoulder. The effects of the medication begin to take you as you almost faint on his cock, drowsy by the sensations as they overtake you before he wakes you by pushing you back and using one of his hands to grab your neck.

“Stay with me, angel. S’ fucking close.” You groan as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot.

“So deep, Kazu.” You whisper as a moan follows, a warmth building in your core before he slams you down one more time, the pressure causing you both to finally release, his semen shooting deep inside you as he holds you down against his lap while you grind out your orgasm.

“You did so fucking good, Y/n. My beautiful girl.” He holds onto you tightly as you begin to fall asleep on top of him, unknown to what awaits you in the morning.

You grunt as the constant ringing of your phone wakes you up, your hand grabbing your throbbing head as you slowly sit up in your bed. Your eyes are squinted as you read the contact name, confused as to why your boyfriend is calling you so early. You answer with a croaked out, “Hello.”

“How could you do this to me? To us?” He exclaims. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at what I sent you!”

You immediately put him on speaker as you comply, opening your chat. Your eyes widen and your hand goes to cover your mouth as you watch yourself sucking a random person’s erection, furrowed brows as tears form. You try to remember when this could’ve happened and how but you had no memory before today. Just distant memories of your first week in Japan.

“Derrick, I-I don’t know or remember, or even how this happened! You have to believe me, please!” You cry out, scared of losing the love of your life. The one you planned to marry. Tears threaten to fall as your hand shakes over your mouth.

“I didn’t know you were such a slut, Y/n.” You gasp as the line goes dead. You attempted to call him back but you were only met with his voicemail. You check the group chat with your friends to respond to all of the notifications, only to see the same video one of your friend’s said Derrick had sent to them. They shamed you and apparently blocked you. You searched their social media and couldn’t find anything.

You begin to cry, your life feeling as though it has fallen completely apart. You only hope that they won’t send the video around to anyone else at home, not that you knew many people personally. You skip your classes and sulk in your room, curtains closed as you weep for the rest of the day. You contemplate getting out of the bed when you hear a knock at your door.

With a blanket wrapped around your head and body, you opened the door to tell the visitor to go away. Of course, Kazutora doesn’t listen and walks in anyway, pulling you into a hug as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You explain to him everything, anxiety filling your mind from your violation. You talk to him about how scared you are because of the unknown person you had sucked off, stds being a fear as well as just feeling shame in general. You couldn’t believe you allowed that to happen. He explains how it wasn’t your fault and he’ll go with you to the doctor’s. He embraced you and allowed you to cry on him. He knew you needed him. Heknew that you just needed a push in the right direction. He knew that there was nothing truly wrong with you considering it was just him. He’s clean anyway.

He was prepared for the tears and pain though he knew it would be worth it once you're in his arms. After a month of healing, you both became a couple, Kazutora asking you out in a romantic way. He had patience throughout the relationship, wanting you to be comfortable in your own skin once more. A year passes and you decide to stay in Japan, having nothing left in your old country. Having attended therapy, you both live on happily, though you are still unknown to the truth that ruined your life in the first place.

[sarah-yyy]

what: period cdrama // 40 eps, roughly 55 mins each  where: youku (you can also dl the app) // youtube // coming up soon on viki (usual disclaimer that i do not use eng subs so i don’t speak to the quality of subs) why: do you love watching a poor little meow-meow get tortured in a variety of ways before he decides to go fuck it, i’ll be a demon lord and kill everyone who wronged me?? do you like enemies to fated to kill you lovers??? do you enjoy PAIN AND SUFFERING??? this is the show for you

meet tantai jin, the cdrama fandom’s newest obsession 

cursed prince of the Jing kingdom who was sent as a hostage to a neighbouring kingdom. he’s been unloved and bullied all his life - think, discarded and left to die by his own father, kicked around by servants, begging for scraps of food, abandoned and slowly betrayed by everyone around him... it’s NOT GOOD buddies, you will watch his life unfold and you will become attached and want to let him do whatever the fuck he wants 

surprise surprise this sad pathetic man will one day become

THE demon lord who destroys all of humanity etc etc. look at this wardrobe upgrade??? amazing. beautiful. bad for humanity but great for him. good job, bud, you did well.

ANYWAY this show opens with demon lord tantai jin (affectionate) going on his lil’ murder spree (understandable). the fate of humanity as we know it to be rests on the shoulders of one li susu

to defeat tantai jin, she will transmigrate to the past into the body of ye xiwu (tantai jin’s evil wife who whips him every night (not in the fun way sorry buds) and tortures/bullies him for because it pleases her) to try to kill him while he’s weak, before he turns evil and amasses power. this is for the good of humanity!!! but also he’s truly so pathetic in the past that she can’t quite seem to put her heart into it (there’s also this whole finding his evil bone and getting rid of that before she can kill him problem but HMMM) and decides that?? maybe if she shows him some care and love??? she’ll subvert his murdermurdermurder tendencies????

this is the gist of the show!! there are a few arcs that we go through like all good xianxia cdramas, so we get to see them live through a few different lives (think: ten miles of peach blossom, pillow book etc etc), and every single dynamic between them is SO GOOD!!!!! we have spicy enemies to lovers!! cutesy arranged marriage between strangers to lovers (who don’t communicate enough for them to be happy)!!! star-crossed lovers fated to kill one another!!! 

the show is so goddamn pretty!! the aesthetics!!! the cgi!!!! the costumes ohmygod, i have never wanted to buy so many headdresses before

LOOK AT THIS!!! HOW PRETTY WAS THIS!!!!

he’s got this whole demon look LOCKED IN who else does it as well as my boy tantai jin

this show is very PRETTY but make no mistake there will be a lot of angst!!! that’s part of what makes it so good!! luo yunxi does Tortured, Feral and Deranged™ SO WELL i weep every time i see him on screen, i have truly not been Okay since this show started airing, buddies please join me in till the end of the moon hell, you will not regret it, promise 😇✨

⚠❗ few post-finale thoughts so y’all go into it with full disclosure (and can’t yell at me for inflicting pain on y’all, just know what i am also Suffering™) - stop reading from here if you want no spoilers for the show at all. 

trigger warning: there is some dubcon in ep 14 (stretches between approx. the 25:00-27:25 min mark) between ming ye and sang jiu 

we were all hoping for a happy ending, but this ends on a bad-open scale, depending on how you look at it. @minmoyu​ has helpfully directed me to a happy audio-epilogue which was apparently shot but didn’t make its way into the episode?? we still dk if the footage will be released as an extra?? we can all form a prayer circle and HOPE i guess

the plot is HMM the further to the end we get, probably because they had to cut the eps down, so it’s a little choppy, esp the last few scenes??? idk idk. it’s a bit exhausting to watch towards the end, because you root for ttj so so much and he tries so so hard and SIGH. i need another few working days to digest this, i’m still a bit :/ about the ending

would i still rec the show, post-watch? yes! this show starts off really solid, and luo yunxi carried the show throughout. like. y’all thought lyx was good in ashes of love?? watch him in this. every single micro-expression was flawless. bai lu’s acting is always so dependable, and it’s the same with this show!  

this show has an a+++ ost (i mean it’s got the king and queen of cdrama osts liu yuning and zhang bichen, literally how could this be bad)!! and CERTAIN side characters are so so good (pian ran my baby girl, ye qingyu who grows on you, decidedly NOT bingchang/tian huan/mo nv although i will concede that chen duling’s acting in this show was Incredible). 

[byullielle]

You Can't Read My Mind // Hwang Hyunjin x AFAB!Reader

FU In My Head, Cloudy June Y/N, unknowingly dating a mind-reader is at a disadvantage. Every time her thoughts drift to her absolutely charming and mischievous boyfriend, it takes a turn for the worst–the indulgences she conjures up about Hyunjin are simply unspeakable for the most part

Tags: Mind-Reading, Smut, Erotic Daydreaming, Unprotected Sex, Sex Toys (Candles, Vibrators, Hitachi Wands, Handcuffs), Tease!Hyunjin, Mildly Perv!Reader, Masturbation, Hwang Hyunjin has A Tongue Piercing, Cunnilingus, Kinda Fluffy/Tender Smut

Disclaimer: A scene comes up in where the reader thinks of Hyunjin fucking up a slim paintbrush handle but it never materializes. MINORS DNI. NSFW Content.

5.1k Words

A slight mewl is punched out of you, the sting making itself known on your thigh, then your stomach. It's a little bit fuzzy, but you look down as Hyunjin lets the wax drip onto your stomach, making you whimper before a gasp is punched out of you. Your clit throbs against his tongue as your hips jut up a bit, whimpering against the sheets while he continues to make out with your pussy, candle not forgotten as the occasional drips sting on your skin, making you yelp and moan wantonly.

He's beautiful, looking up at you with a very teasing glint in his eyes before slipping off your pussy, fluids on his lips and chin. He snuffs out the candle and lets the last remnant drip on your skin. "Look at you," he whispers under his breath, "My muse," he gruffly states while fucking you down with his eyes. 

The keys on the door suddenly jingle as you shake your head and close your legs, the mildly pornographic Netflix film that triggered your thoughts to spiral left unwatched continues to play. Immediately reaching for the remote, you exit the show and turn the TV off before your beloved boyfriend comes through the door, bag on one shoulder and hair already untied. 

You smile at him, hopping off the couch before flinging yourself towards him. "Welcome home!"

"Oof, now isn't this a welcome," he giggles before gently moving your bangs out of the way and pressing a kiss on your forehead, "I'm home," he smiles down at you. 

Your ears were still a little bit warm from the sudden daydream you went through, sure that there was at least a sliver of slick seeping through your folds, thankful that you wore pretty thick underwear. "How's your day?" you ask, voice unfaltering while you head to the kitchen to reheat the kimchi-jjigae you made earlier while he dresses down from work. "Oh the usual, choreography finally got finalized and we're ready to hit the road," he explains before stretching up and joining you in the kitchen.

"What about you, pretty girl, what were you up to today?"

"Closed a deal with a client and I'm halfway done with their commission project," you hum, handing him a bowl of rice and soup. "Overall it was productive,"

"Yea I bet," he says with a slight mischief to his tone. You couldn't help but jut your brow up at the statement before opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of aloe drink. "Did you eat already?" he asks while mixing the soup around, responding to him with a nod. 

You lean on the counter, watching him eat and savor the food with his usual sad expression and slight tremble which makes you chuckle internally, 'Cute,' you think. He looks up at you abruptly, raising his brows, "Enjoying yourself up there?" he asks as you laugh, "Yeah, it's fun watching you eat," you immediately concede. " 'S that so?" he scoffs and continues to eat. 

To spare him some sort of privacy you turn around and start on the dishes that both of you left to accumulate since this morning, a handful of pots you vowed to ‘wash after soaking,’ hitting it’s 2-day mark.

It’s quiet once more in the car, the dishes rendering your thoughts open and vulnerable once more. ‘What the fuck was that,’ you recall, quite ashamed at the thoughts that coursed through your brain 30 minutes ago. Wax play? Ever since when were you into pain anyways? And did either of you even own a pair of handcuffs? 

Hyunjin was a very tender and passionate guy when it came to sex, always thorough and romantic and that also translated in the way yu thought of him when it came to a little bit more depraved crevices in your brain. Even as he hypothetically splattered wax onto your skin he was still tender and very much attentive. Shaking your head, you try to snap out of it, you weren’t supposed to even start rationalizing the slew of horny thoughts–it is what it is, and having occasional daydreams of getting fucked silly with candle wax wasn’t as depraved as other fantasies. You were fine.

A hand on your waist shocks you so much you drop a pot down the sink as it splashes out slightly, also making Hyunjin recoil a bit. “Woah, princess, it’s just me,” he chuckles before pressing a kiss on your nape, making you shiver out a bit, “What’s going on through your pretty little head huh?” he asks you as you sigh and shake your head, “Maybe I’m just tired,” you let out a stammering laugh.

“Let me,” he turns the sink on for you, urging you to rinse your hands and leave the dishes to him, “You sure?”

“Positive. Go take a rest baby, put on something for us to watch,” he further tries to gently push you away from the sink with his hips before starting to take the sponge.

“If you say so,” you pout and lean to press a kiss on his cheek. 

“Let me take care of this,” he then says something that makes your goosebumps rise up unimaginably so, “Just go sit there and be my pretty little muse,”

You make a double take on him but he’s already facing the dishes. The expression on your face was one of befuddled shock, snapping yourself out as quick as you could before Hyunjin shakes his head with a soft smile on his face. ‘Wax play huh?’ he recalls the events he saw in your mind, ‘Never knew you were into that too my muse,’

You nurse your cup within your hands, knees up your chest while you watch Hyunjin focus on his canvas. It's a quiet Saturday morning, both your days off when you can just simmer in the comfort of silence. You try to keep your eyes off him but he's just so beautiful, with his hair tied back and a small streak of green paint across his cheek. 

His arms move along the motions of the canvas, making you bite your lower lip just a bit. Your imagination starts dwindling once more, eyes constantly following the trail of his arm. You hesitate a bit, not wanting to immediately go to that route especially when he was doing something mundane and something he loved, why would you dirty it like that. ‘It’s only dirty if he finds out,’ the devil on your shoulder reasons out, and suddenly you’re pulled back into your wild imagination.

"Tickles?" he asks as your breath hitches, the clean and damp brush running across your pebbled nipples, the dark obscuring your vision as he chuckles lowly. The bristles run past your stomach, then your inner thigh making you sigh out, "I wonder what would happen if I fuck this brush into you sweetheart," he asks which makes you want to gasp, a moan punched out instead. “You like that huh,” he hums, warm hands travelling the expanse of your legs. “Jinnie,” you whine, needy and wanton to your little heart’s desire. 

In the real world you’re taking another sip of your drink, eyes plastered on the words of the book you were reading without comprehending anything. Drifting back, Hyunjin gently swipes the brush up your clit, making you let out a stuttered breath, “Oh,” you couldn’t help but dumbly let out as he giggles, airy and light, “Like that? I’m just like painting you into existence,” he leans down and presses a kiss against your lip, capturing your tongue into his mouth before a sloppy sound makes your ears heat up with need. The sweet obscenity of it all, it was delicious.

“Only for you,” you manage to let out as he hums, “For me? You exist for me darling?” he questions before turning the paintbrush and letting the blunt tip gently run down the center of your thorax down to your belly button. “What a treat,” he hums in delight before lowering the brush further, facing your entrance directly.

"Y/N?" his voice jolts you up, making your drink splash around a little bit as small speckles land on your thigh and the blanket draped over you, "Sorry?" you swallow down heavily, looking to him as he smiles sympathetically, "You alright there? You've been staring off since a while ago," 

"I–I'm fine," you squeak out, further tightening your thighs against your body, "I just…drifted off in my thoughts," you chuckle as he hums. 

He stands from the artist's stool and wipes his hands off a damp towel, wiping the stain of paint off his cheek with the pad of his thumb. He starts walking closer towards you, subconsciously making you tighten the handle of the mug into your hand, "Sure?" he asks, stepping in front of you before placing a hand on your forehead, "You're warm darling, are you sure you're alright?" he asks.

You nod, taking his hands into yours after setting the mug down, “Why don’t you come nap with me,” you urge, and he laughs out almost as if he’s in disbelief. “A nap? Really?” ‘After that thing you just conjured up’ he nearly answers but bites his tongue. “What if I wanna do something else other than nap my muse?” he questions making your heart drop down to your pussy.

“H-Huh?”

He chuckles, an octave lower before leaning down to face you directly, “What if I wanted something else rather than a nap? Hm? Don’t you think we could have fun today?” he swipes the blanket off you and before you can turn your legs he grabs them and sets them on his shoulders, getting on his knees as your breath hitches.

“J-Jinnie, baby, what–”

“Wanna eat you out,” he presses a gentle kiss against your bare thigh, the metal on his tongue making itself known, sleep shorts riding up your legs, “Please?”

You needed the comfort anyway. You’ve been wet and throbbing since a while ago, why would you pass up this opportunity so quickly? “Okay,” you give him the signal before he nearly tears your shorts and underwear off you.

He comes face to face with your glistening pussy, a groan coming from him as he runs a gentle finger on the fold, making you sigh out. “So so pretty,” he hums in appreciation before nipping on your inner thigh with a smile filled with mischief. 

“Is your thigh somehow more sensitive than I’ve anticipated my muse?”

“Jinnie,” you scold whiningly.

“Sorry sorry, my bad,” he teases further, but gets closer to your bare cunt as he looks up at you with adoration, making you grab the blanket beside you and just clutch. You knew you were going to be here for a while.

A small whimper escapes your lips, pinching down your nipple as the hitachi wand presses against your clit. "Ohh fuck," you let out, the slick leaking off your pussy. In your mind, Hyunjin was helping you, his chest pressed against your back as he toys with the other nipple.

"And stop," he whispers against your ear as you shut the hitachi off, hips jutting up. Your breathing is heavy, the hitachi on one hand as you wait for a solid minute until the fabricated voice of his' in your head urges you to, "Go again,"

You press the wand against your clit again, imagining his slender fingers roaming your body so thoroughly you start to feel the delicious lick of shame set ablaze onto your spine. The slick gushes out of your folds, a choppy whine escaping you before another command echoes through the confines of your mind, "Stop,"

"Fuck, Hyunjin," you let out, pornographic and high from pleasure as your hands tremble around the wand. You still have your shirt half on, your panties pooled around your ankles while your bra is tucked under your breasts. You knew you looked like a wreck. "Look at you. Would it help if I gave you one of my boxers to sniff all to your greedy heart's content, sweetheart?" his voice reverberates, making you shiver a bit.

"Perhaps I can even play with you while you still have your underwear on. Stuff you with a vibe while I help you with the wand huh," he jeers and tempts before his hand reaches out on top of yours and envelopes them before turning the wand back on and pressing it against your spent clit.

"Hngh, Hyunjin," you call out, hips thrusting up and your leg slightly trembling before the bedroom door swings open. You gasp and open your eyes in shock to see your boyfriend by the doorway with a boner tenting up his pants.

"H–Hyune!"

"My, my, would you look at that," he clicks his tongue, "Why are you having fun without me my muse?" he tilts his head before folding his arms. The shame smacks you into oblivion as you shut your legs, "I–I didn't know you'd c–come home today," you shyly mutter.

He sighs and chuckles, eyes raking up and down at your disheveled appearance on the bed, "Do you want me to help you sweetheart?" he asks, starting to strip off his shirt as his lithe and lean muscles contract under his skin, deliciously so if you might add.

You hesitantly nod as he crawls towards you on the bed, reaching out for your slightly slicked hand as he pulls you towards him, whispering in your ear which makes goosebumps break out of you like a chill blown through your skin, "How do you want us to do this, my muse?"

"Anything you want Jinnie," you readily respond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he chuckles and presses a tender kiss on your lips, "Let me try reading your mind, huh?" he teases, slotting your lips together before your tongues dance around each other, the breath taken from your lungs and made his'.

"I want to please you, princess," he whispers against your lips, "Want me to stuff a vibe up that drenched pussy of yours? Eating you out while it vibrates?"

You gasp, his word-for-word reiteration of your thoughts surprising you.

"Oh, looks like I hit the jackpot," he softly chuckles, pressing a kiss on the juncture of your jaw and ear, suckling lightly as you mewl out and hold the back of his head with your hand while throwing your head back. "And we can even play with candles darling," he cajoles making you want to protest because it felt like he could really read your mind. He wasn't psychic, was he?

"H-How'd you know?" you stammer as he laughs against your neck.

He presses a kiss on your collarbone, then your sternum, "It's awfully obvious,"

Blood rushes up your cheeks before a surprised yelp escapes you, a nip on your hardened buds shocking you in the best way possible. “Take your time to answer darling,” he breathlessly chuckles against your supple skin, “I can be here all day,”

He swipes his tongue up on your tit, making you whimper before his hands hold your thighs still. The hard metal ball resting on his tongue adds to the pressure, constantly catching on your nipples making you jolt up and try to squeeze your legs closed against Hyunjin’s body.

He stays there, leaning against you as he suckles and lightly bites down at your tits and kisses up your sternum as you scramble for the last of your wits, unable to form any comprehensive sentence.

But it tempts you–the promise and permission to indulge in your thoughts dangling right in front of your face. Candle wax and a dream, what were you to lose when it was his suggestion? “Jin, Jinnie,” you whimper out, making his hum reverberate on your sternum before his eyes flit up, plush lips never leaving your body.

“Do something,” you beg, never beyond you to get immediate gratification.

“And what would that something be my muse?” he gets up from your chest before inching closer to your face again, lips connecting against yours once more, “Oh come on,” you whine, nearly teary.

He laughs, giving a peck, hands roaming the expanse of your nearly naked body, with the shirt still hanging off your shoulder. “Jinnie please,” you pout, but he doesn’t relent. “Please what my darling?”

“You’re cruel,” you whimper. “I know,” he chuckles and bites down on your lower lip teasingly.

You pout, embarrassed to your very core but needy all the same, you clutch his arm and he hums with a tilt of his head, “P-Please?” you sputter out and open your legs a little bit more, “I- I wanna play with wax Jinne, and the vibes too,” you struggle out, looking down at the hand wrapped around your boyfriend’s arm.

“Sure?” he asks and you nod, “W-Why are you so good at this?” you try to joke but he maneuvers you until your back hits his still-clothed chest as he chuckles near your ear, “Maybe I can read your mind,”

You gulp down. The thoughts, the daydreams, it was embarrassing if he really could read your mind. And the fact that he knew how to enact these was hot in a way that shame coursed through you and in you like a leaky faucet. A pervert in every essence of the word. “Don’t worry darling, I find it hot that you think of me this way,” he whispers and leans over to the small toy box on his side of the nightstand before pulling out a candle and lighter from the drawer of said stand. “Y-You have one,” you say in awe.

He hands the lighter in your hand, “Say when and it’s all yours,” he smiles against your ear before biting down softly, making you whine. His legs restrain yours, forcing them open as the cool air hits your bare pussy, your arousal gushing out as he runs his index finger on your folds, making a stuttered gasp escape you.

“So, so wet,” he muses, the pad of his finger suddenly on your overworked clit. “J-Jinne!” you gasp out and throw your head back on his shoulder as your hand tightens on his bicep in pleasure. He then moves his fingers to slowly plunge into your head, the softest squelch coming from it as you’re stopped bucking forward because of his legs pulling you back.

The weighty yet slim pressure was so good, that the delayed gratification you subjected yourself to was finally rewarded. Slipping in another finger, your walls stretch to accommodate his fingers, and a moan is loudly punched out from you as he spreads them a bit, then closes them back down, effectively making you open up a bit.

His other hand pulls the bullet vibrator closer and the anticipation pounds against your chest as your breath picks up into a hitch, and once he raises it up, he slips the small toy into his mouth, the faint clack of the silicone material against the piercing on his tongue still audible as you watch in awe and arousal.

With eyes meeting yours, he smiles down at you slightly. What an absolute tease. You pout and reach out, turning around before slipping the toy off his mouth, a small trail of spit breaking the moment that the toy is out of his lips. Without a word, you slip the toy inside, shakily so while you scrabble for purchase on his shoulder.

A broken staccato of moans are punched out of you once you start slipping the toy in, his hands holding your waist up as you whimper before it fully settles into your warm core, legs trembling. “Comfy?” he asks.

You hold onto his shoulders with your arms wrapped around them, leaning your forehead against his’, “Yeah. Feels nice,” you mumble as he leans over to press a kiss against your lips. You look into his eyes and can’t help but bashfully smile at him, “What’s in your mind cutie?” he asks before reaching for the remote of the vibe, not turning it on yet.

“Nothing. I- I just feel very spoiled right now,”

“If you told me sooner you were into candles I would’ve helped you out a looong~ time ago,” he giggles and presses a kiss on the tip of your nose, “I’ll give the world for you, you know that right?”

Your core squeezes against the toy, making you bite down on your lower lip at the sudden pressure exerted by your walls, “Do something Jinnie,” you beg, making him hum and maneuver your back down against the mattress gently. His hands trail down from the sides of your ribs before the vibrator stuffed inside you starts buzzing.

A sharp inhale burns through your lungs, a sound unable to spill out of you as your legs stiffen.

His lips start trailing down your sternum, then your stomach, then you could feel the stiff metal dig into your tummy, slightly nipping at the small pudge making you yelp out and giggle breathlessly before spasming due to the stimulation within your walls. You were going to go insane and it was in the most delicious way possible.

You can feel him smile against you before his lips and tongue inch down, biting and pressing on your inner thigh. ‘Clothes,’ you suddenly notice, the material of his jeans chafing against your bare legs, and while he presses a kiss on your knee he starts shucking off his shirt, then fumbling with the buttons of his jeans while pressing up on the intensity of the vibe.

Your hands grip and tear into the sheets as it hastens up, forcing your eyes to screw shut as the lighter makes itself known into your palm. You feel his hands on you once more, making you open your eyes starting to grow heavier as he smiles down lovingly, clothes finally out of the way before he dips down between your legs and looks up at you.

His tongue lolls out of his lips, the warm pad of his tongue now pressed against your leaking cunt while his piercing catches on the swollen nub, electricity coursing up your system while curses and moans tumble out of your lips.

The vibrations are buzzing through the soft walls of your core, feeling the slick leave yet his tongue and saliva mixing while the slopping sounds of the fluids make your ears heat up more than they already were, blood pumping through them as if the sounds of the room are zeroed in on the man savoring you like there was no tomorrow.

“J-Jinnie!” you call out, voice caught against his throat as he hums and sends down further vibrations in your core, sucking on your bud lightly before looking up as you hand him the lighter with trembling hands. “I- I don’t think I can last,”

“Oh but you can,” he detaches from you, a trail of slick on his lips, nose, and chin. “Come all you want my darling, it’s fine,” he chuckles before taking the lighter. “Why don’t you have one for me before we play some more?” he smiles, half-lidded and drunk in lust.

Without getting another word in, the vibrations in your cunt fasten up making you tense up and grip his arms before his thumb meets your clit, driving you into cumming faster than you anticipated as you rock your hip forward, thighs trembling and knees hiking up. The sheets are nearly torn off the mattress due to your thrashing and a long, drawn-out moan spills from you, a string of babbles that come in the form of Hyunjin’s name along with it.

He shuts the vibrator off, inserting his fingers to slip it off your hole, making you shudder while catching your breath. He presses a kiss against your inner knee before rubbing the spot.

“There you go,” Hyunjin kisses your cheek before comfortingly, “Want more or are you tired?”

“More,” you scramble up on your elbows while the high dies down, your energy and libido still in peak condition, “Jinnie, I want you to come too,” you pout and cage his face between your hands before placing a tender kiss on his lips, “Please?”

“Can I ask you something?” Jinnie tenderly kisses your palm, “Cockwarm me? While we play with the wax?” he hesitates a bit, now a shy smile playing on his plush lips, “I know it isn’t–”

“--Yes please,” you breathlessly answer, clenching down on nothing. “God, please Jinnie,”

You could see his adam’s apple bob up and down, the darkness in his eyes clouded by lust. “You’re perfect, my muse,” he gently pushes you back down on the bed before crawling up the bed and grabbing some lube and condoms by the nightstand.

You try to reach out once he settles back down, hands wrapping around his dick before he stops you with a hand to your wrist and a hiss, “Darling, I will cum if you try,” he laughs dryly, making you pout but comply anyway, letting go.

He bites off the foil of the condom wrapper, rolling on the latex around his hard member, red at the tip and veins protruding by the underside of his shaft. What you’d give to lick at those veins. He pops off the lube cap and squirts some on his hand.

“Baby, you’re staring,” he bashfully points out while slathering the lubricant on his hard and wrapped cock. You gulp down and avert your eyes up to him, heart squeezing at the sight as his kiss-swollen lips are tucked under his teeth, cheeks, and ears flushed red, sweat trailing down his temple and neck while his brows knit together at the slight pressure he seems to be putting on his cock. He’s gorgeous like this, and you could stare at him forever.

There is a short reprieve, both your eyes meeting again before he sighs with a fond look despite the clear need in his eyes, leaning down back to your vantage point before you wrap one arm around the back of his neck as he pushes down against your lips once more, slotting them together as the soft and plush sensation sends you into cloud nine, floating while the ecstasy of please buzzes around your head, kissed stupid and fucked into a high.

You feel his cockhead press against your clit, making you whimper against his lips while the wet sensation of his tongue swipes through.

He presses down and his head catches in your folds but doesn’t go in yet, still savoring the teasing he’s putting you through before feeling the pout on your lips making him sigh out in muted laughter. You detach your lips from him, mouth opened wide in a gasped moan as his length stretches you out, the delectable spread of your folds enveloping his warm member making goosebumps rise out of you as he grunts before placing his forehead on your shoulder, ragged breaths coming from him.

You slot your hands between his hair, gently raking your fingers against his scalp before hearing a breathless whimper. After a few beats of silence, he sits up again, cock buried deep into you before he combs his hair back with his fingers and then grabs the lighter discarded to the side of your leg. You suck in a breath, making him groan before he could ignite the candle, excitement bubbling in your system as the wick lights aflame.

"Shit, shit. Baby, don't squeeze down," he hisses and presses down against your stomach a bit, a loud and startled mewl escaping you. "J-Jinnie," I stammer out.

The flame burns the door wax down, you stare at it in anticipation until it suddenly drips. Catching you off guard, a sting suddenly makes itself known, and another, scorching heat all over your skin pricking you. A staggering moan escapes you, the sting feeling so good as the scalding heat lingers against your stomach.

"O-Oh fuck!"

"Feel nice?" Hyunjin asks, breathless as he holds up the candle against you, letting it drip down to your sternum, chest, stomach, and thighs. Each stinging drip makes your legs tremble, a knot in your stomach coils up again, a litany of moans and pleasured screams spilling uncontrollably.

Clenching around Hyunjin's length, you start toying with your nipples while the drips around your body continue to assault you with pleasure.

"Jinnie, oh fuck. So good," you moan, eyes closed as he deeply chuckles.

"You look so…wrecked, my muse. So gorgeous,"

You start grinding down against his dick, the pain of the wax making you want to move, scratch the itch in your aching pussy as he hisses and tries to stay still.

Another drip of wax stings against your stomach, making your back arch and leading you to impale yourself more on Hyunjin's cock. It felt good, the gushing pleasure of your core coating his dick and leaking out. A pressure builds up against your lower stomach, "Jinnie!"

He chuckles, slightly dark and menacing as he gently grinds back. "Does it feel good, my pretty girl?"

"S-So good," you manage to stammer out in a growl. "Fuck me please. Jinnie, move, move please"

He gently caresses your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling down lovingly. "So polite," he mumbles before blowing the candle out, grabbing your hips and thrusting forward.

Moan after moan is punched out every thrust he makes, sweat dripping down his body and making him look golden, glowing against the bedroom light. "Jinnie! Jinnie, cum please," you shut your eyes in pleasure. 'Cumcumcumcum,' is recited in your mind like a mantra, like a silent plea as he grunts and the grip on your waist bruisingly tightens.

A sudden, punched out moan escapes him, thrusts growing erratic and rougher by the minute as you tear at his arms in blinding pleasure. Warmth coats your pussy, feeling the condom inside you fill out as you clench, your own orgasm pulled out from you as you stutter out a high pitched whine.

Heavy breathing fills the room, Hyunjin looking down at you and tracing the dried down wax splatters on your skin.

"My pretty pretty canvas,"

You smile at him dazedly and tiredly, "All for you," you reach out for his hand and kiss the back of it. I look up at him curiously, "Are you sure you're not a mind reader?"

He laughs, light and airy before pressing a kiss against your lips. "Are you sure that I'm not?" he cocks a brow up, "Darling your fantasies are mine to take anyways, mine to fulfill,"

You shiver at his words, breath quickening and pussy clenching down on him still. He hisses with a smile on his face, wincing, "Oh, looks like someone is still energetic,"

a/n: whew. 5k words for smut is surprising to me cause damn i got carried away if anything.

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | part 9

Pairing: Samurai!Noah x Princess!Reader Series masterpost here✨ Word count: 7k

Tags & trigger warnings: tiny bit of angst at the beginning, descriptions of wounds and blood, fluff, sexual content (oral sex with fem. receiving, praise kink ("good girl"), hints at noah having a breeding kink, p in v unprotected).

Please, be advised this part contains a scene involving shibari (bondage) and this might not be everybody's tea regardless of what it means for noah and his princess. I've approached it with care and love, and there's obviously consent from her side and noah is being gentle and attentive through it all, but I understand if some people are not comfortable with reader being tied up while there's sexual intercourse, hence this note.

I've also revised this very quickly, so apologies if you find any typos or mistakes.

Additional useful info: - Zabuton: cushion/pillow. - Omamori: good luck charm meaning to protect.

A wisp of smoke drifted around me, curling from the incense sticks that burned softly in the temple. 

I had lost track of time, and with that loss, some of the anguish that consumed me began to ebb away. 

Or perhaps it wasn’t quite that. Maybe it was the presence of the temple and the protective amulet in my hand that had lulled me into a fragile sense of security, a belief that everything would be okay. 

I found myself in a sort of meditative trance. It had started as a prayer, my eyes closed, my fingers wrapped around the omamori, and my lips whispering fervent invocations. The image of Noah’s bleeding chest had been almost unbearable, but now, the panic had receded, if only momentarily. My breathing had steadied, and while a deep sadness still weighed on me, the panic no longer had me in its relentless grip. 

Nearby, the elderly woman who had given me the amulet was engaged in her rituals, her presence palpable not only through the bowl of prayers she tended but also through the calming energy she radiated and I could feel even with my eyes closed. 

It had taken me a moment to recognize the old woman—it was the same one Noah and I had met earlier that morning in the dining room. Rika had mentioned that the woman and her husband were the oldest couple in the community, residing in a small house behind the temple. They spent their days watching over the community and aiding those in need. 

Though I hadn’t asked for help, at least not with words, the old woman had appeared by my side as soon as I collapsed in front of the altar. Even without exchanging a single word, I felt her presence, a silent guardian over me and, most importantly, over Noah. 

My soul and heart were not alone in their pleas to the gods for Noah and for a just resolution to the battle ocurring beyond these walls. 

The tears had long since dried on my cheeks. A breeze flowed through the open doors and expansive windows of the temple, growing stronger until it startled me, causing my heart to momentarily freeze and my voice to catch in my throat.

The fight was over.

As the wind softened into a gentle caress, I refocused on the amulet in my hand, gripping it tightly once more and resuming my prayers. 

I lost track of how much time passed while I remained there, kneeling with my hands resting in my lap. The fear that had taken root in me was so overwhelming that I didn’t notice the breeze transform into an even tenderer touch. For a fleeting moment, I felt wrapped in a cocoon of protection and calm.

But the silence was abruptly broken by a voice from the entrance to the temple behind me.

“He will live.”

The omamori slipped from my fingers as I heard Noah’s voice, a jolt of shock coursing through me. I sprang to my feet, steadying myself on trembling knees, and turned around.

There he was, not a ghost, but the man I loved, covered in blood. 

His clothes were stained and torn, with small patches of crimson on his cheeks and jaw, cuts marring his left thigh and arms, and a deep wound still oozing blood on his chest. My breath caught in my throat, and a sob escaped as I rushed to him. He let his katana fall and pulled me into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me with desperation.

I didn’t care about the dirt clinging to his clothes or the blood smeared across his skin. All I cared about was the warmth of his body against mine, the fierce reality of him being here with me. I clung to him, struggling to contain the sobs that had built up during his fight and my anxious wait in the temple. I could sense the fatigue in his embrace, the faint tremor of exhaustion.

It was the soft, resigned sigh that escaped his lips that made me pull back slightly. Noah’s gaze met mine, filled with a tumult of anguish, fatigue, and a lingering fear of having disappointed me. With a weary hand, he reached up and gently wiped the blood from my cheek with his thumb, a troubled wrinkle forming on his forehead as if it pained him to see me tainted by the violence that had marked out lives. 

“My father,” I began, clutching the lapels of Noah’s tattered combat suit, my voice trembling. 

“I spared his life,” Noah murmured, his voice muffled as he buried his face in my hair. “He’s wounded, but he’ll survive.”

The relief that surged through me was like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had gripped my heart. But the word ‘wounded’ caused me to pull away slightly, my eyes instinctively drawn to the gash on Noah’s chest. 

“You need someone to tend to you,” I said urgently, my eyes filling with tears. The sight of him, battered and bloodied, was breaking my heart. The thought of him being hurt, especially by no other than my father, was too much. 

“I’m fine.”

“Noah, you’re losing blood.” I started to ask how he had managed to make it all the way to the temple in such a state, but then, he faltered. 

His posture sagged, as if the effort of standing and speaking was too much. The sight of his vulnerability drove a deeper ache into my chest. I took a step closer, reaching out to steady him, my hands gripping his arms. My panic flared again. 

I guided him to sit on the floor as I watched how every movement was draining him. The old woman appeared almost as if by magic, and in a second she was directing Noah to remain seated as she placed a small zabuton on the floor. 

With a quiet authority, she instructed him to lie down, and Noah, wincing, carefully reclined. 

“Open his shirt,” the woman instructed. My heart was pounding in my chest. The voices in my head screamed that this wasn’t the end, that there was still a chance I could lose him. 

The cut on Noah’s chest, while not as deep as I’d thought initially, had been bleeding for a while, and his exhausting only compounded the gravity of his condition. I remained momentarily paralyzed, caught in the horror of the situation, in the thought that it could get worse, but Noah’s groan of pain snapped me back to reality. He was trying to open the lapels of his suit, but the effort was too much for him. I knelt beside him, my hands trembling as I gently pulled aside the fabric. Every tug brought a pained wince from Noah, the material sticking to the wound, making the task even more agonizing. 

Once his chest was exposed, the woman reappeared with a bowl filled with water and a wooden box. From the box, she retrieved a handful of gauze, a roll of thread, and a needle. Noah turned his head slightly towards her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of resignation and discomfort. 

“It needs to be stitched,” she announced with a calm resolve. 

Noah’s shoulders sagged with the weight of his exhaustion, and he threw his head back, his eyes searching for mine. I reached out, my fingers entwining with his. I could see the fatigue and the faint hope in his gaze. Despite the grime, blood, and sweat, he was still the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. When he tried to smile at me, it took all my strength to remain upright, my legs feeling like they might buckle beneath me had I been standing.

“We’re free,” he whispered, his voice a fragile thread of reassurance.

As his words settled into my heart, a couple of tears slipped from my eyes and traced a path down my cheeks, falling onto Noah’s hand, which I had brought to my lips. I kissed his knuckles gently, each touch a silent vow of my love and devotion. The old woman’s skilled hands began the delicate work of stitching, but for now, all I could focus on was the warmth of Noah’s hand in mine and the promise of a future where we would face everything together.

Nearly two hours later, Noah and I were finally back in the house.  

The walk back had been arduous. The wounds Noah sustained from my father’s swords were extensive, not only requiring stitches on his chest, but also on his left bicep, where the cut had been particularly deep and concerning. The old woman at the temple had worked meticulously, disinfecting and stitching each wound to prevent infection. We’d stayed at the temple for a while. Noah had eaten, hydrated, and rested a little before we made our way back to the village. 

Back in the house, I helped Noah into the bath, carefully washing his wounds and bruises. Despite the delicate nature of the task, Noah didn’t utter a single complaint. Instead, he watched with a quiet intensity as my hands moved the sponge over his battered body.

There was a profound intimacy in this act of care that transcended even any physical union. Washing him was a way for me to express my care and love for him. The softness of the sponge against his skin, the careful way I tended to each bruise and scrape, felt like a sacred ritual.

As I glided the sponge across his shoulder, Noah reached out and took my wrist gently, placing two soft kisses on it. The gesture brought a smile to my face, warming the chill of the night and the embarrassment I felt at seeing him so wounded. Noticing my reluctance, he drew me closer until he had me leaning over him, his lips finding mine in a deep, reassuring kiss. His hand rested at the back of my head, grounding me in the moment and making the pain and worry fade.

In different circumstances, I would have discarded my clothes and joined him in the tub, oblivious to the overflow of water and the cramped space. 

Touching his wet hair, I rested my forehead against his and murmured, “The water’s getting cold.” 

He nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and affection. 

A while later, I was in bed, sitting cross-legged, feeling the weight of recent events settle heavily on my shoulders. My gaze flitted uncertainly around the room, not knowing where to fix it. On our katanas? On the dress from our outing to the market, now tainted by Ren’s dagger? Perhaps on the Daruma doll on top of a drawer, a token of good luck and protection Grandma had gifted Noah?

The last few days played on a relentless loop in my mind. The terrifying thought that we might lose everything to my father seemed to have passed, but the echoes of those moments clung to me. Only hours ago, I had feared that Noah and I might be torn apart, our future snatched from our grasp. Now, the realization that we were finally free, that our future lay ahead of us, felt almost surreal.

I glanced at the window, slightly ajar, through which a gentle night breeze flowed in. The room was bathed in soft, muted light from the street below, casting elongated shadows that danced quietly against the walls. Noah emerged from the bathroom, his body wrapped in boxer shorts, the faint scent of soap and water mingling in the air. Despite the healing of his wounds, his spirit was battle-weary and his mind exhausted from the ravages we had experienced together the past few days. 

It was hard to believe that four days ago, only the two of us knew of the love between us. Now, it felt like the secret had been shared with half the world. 

Tears welled up in my eyes, a blend of relief and the residual fear that had held me captive only hours before. They slipped down my cheeks, mingling with the remnants of anxiety. I hurriedly brushed them away before Noah had a chance to see them. 

Shaking his head, he dropped the towel he had used to dry his hair, and knelt at the foot of the bed. His hand reached out, beckoning me to move closer.

I shifted my position, moving to kneel at the foot of the bed so that Noah’s face was slightly below mine. His gaze was filled with adoration and a quiet plea, his brown eyes shimmering with love and promises. He touched my cheek with a comforting caress, sliding his fingers to my chin as he softly spoke.

“We should sleep,” he said, his voice soothing and weary.

I took his wrist and guided his hand to my cheek, leaning into his touch as if drawing strength from it. I closed my eyes, pressing my face against his open palm.

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“What do you want to do, then?” his voice held a tenderness that was as reassuring as it was gentle, a promise that he was ready to fulfill my every need. It was as though he could sense the depth of my love for him, the way it filled every corner of my heart. 

Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you.

I let out a sigh, not one of heaviness but of pure, unadulterated love. My feelings for him had always been intense, even before I came of age, and knowing that our future was no longer just a dream but a reality filled me with a profound sense of joy and anticipation. The thought of spending the rest of our lives together made my heart flutter with an exhilarating mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Just be with you,” I murmured softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Make sure you’re okay.” My gaze drifted to the cut on his chest, now bandaged but still red and angry. The pain was evident in his features, despite his efforts to remain stoic. He was a Samurai, accustomed to enduring pain, but I could see through his brave façade. His grimaces and fleeting glances betrayed the discomfort he was trying to mask.

I gently traced my fingers across his chest, careful to avoid the wounded area. My touch was meant to be a balm, a soothing caress that offered him comfort and reassurance. The cut would leave a scar—a reminder of the sacrifice and courage he had shown, a testament to his willingness to go to great lengths for us.

“I’m fine,” he said with a soft smile, the warmth of his expression gradually melting away the tension in his face. “But I can be better.”

My eyes met his, my fingers resting near where his heart beat beneath his skin.

“How?” I asked, my voice laced with concern.

“By being inside you,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that momentarily pulled me from my worry. His words made me frown slightly and tilt my head in curiosity.

“But you’re hurt,” I said, my voice firm but tender. I wasn’t opposed to his desire—my own wishes aligned closely with his. However, the reality of his injuries weighed heavily on me. He had fought bravely only hours earlier, and I didn’t want him to overexert himself. “I wouldn’t want you to…”

“I’ll be nice and gentle,” he interrupted, his voice filled with an earnest promise.

And that was all I needed.

Suddenly, a gentle smile spread across my face, mirroring the one on Noah's. This was a moment we both needed—something deeply personal and healing. I couldn’t imagine denying him anything. Not now, not ever.

In what felt like slow motion, Noah rose from his seated position. His tall frame and muscular build were even more striking as he stood before me. I blinked slowly, almost reflexively, and watched the bulge in his boxers pulse. His touch on my chin was light and almost imperceptible, his fingertips grazing my cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“Take off your robe,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding.

I obeyed without hesitation, slipping out of the silk robe and revealing the cotton panties beneath —the only piece of clothing I was wearing—. Noah’s eyes softened as they drifted over my exposed body, over my breasts, but there was a glint of hunger in his gaze that spoke of a deep, insatiable need.

“Show me you still trust me,” he said next.

My heart raced, a mix of apprehension and relief coursing through me. This was who we were, what we had become together. After the chaos and bloodshed, this was where we needed to be—close, connected, and unafraid.

I moved to the edge of the bed, offering my wrists to him. I looked up, meeting his warm gaze, silently pledging my trust and surrender.

Noah’s expression was filled with pride and a hint of relief. He stepped away briefly, opening the sliding-door closet where we had stored the clothes Rika and her husband had gifted us. When he returned, he held a collection of belts in his hands. 

He selected a black one from the pile and laid the others beside me on the mattress. He knelt on the floor, aligning himself with my height, and began to tie my wrists with a single-column tie, our eyes locking in a silent exchange of understanding.

“Can you lie down for me?” he asked softly once he was done.

I nodded, and as I settled back onto the mattress, Noah hovered over me momentarily, asking me to lift my head for a couple of seconds so that he could push my hair away to ensure it wouldn’t be caught or tangled. 

“Thank you,” I murmured.

Noah pressed a kiss to my shoulder before stepping back to the foot of the bed. He took my panties with him, letting them fall to the floor, and picked up another belt from the assortment beside me.

I took a deep breath, trying to quell the nervous flutter in my chest. 

Despite my unwavering trust in Noah—knowing that he would never hurt me—the suspense of not knowing what was coming next always made me feel a mixture of excitement and anxiety. My feet itched with a restless anticipation.

Noah seemed to sense my tension. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on my left knee, his lips warm and soothing against my skin. “Bend your leg,” he instructed gently, “so that your calf is pressed against the back of your thigh.”

I followed his guidance, folding my leg as he directed. His fingers began to caress my inner thigh, tracing light, reassuring patterns on my skin. The gentle touch was a familiar comfort, easing my nerves and bringing a sense of calm.

Once I was in the right position, Noah’s hands moved to the belt. His touch was steady and deliberate as he started to tie it around my thigh, making a single column tie just below the hip. The belt was soft but firm, securing the bend of my leg with a snug yet comfortable grip. He then guided the rope down to my calf, encircling it snugly in an evenly spaced manner. His movements were deliberate and attentive, each wrap around my leg made with practiced grace. 

As he continued wrapping the kimono belt around my leg, keeping my thigh and calf together, he paused to check my comfort. His fingers brushed against my skin as he made adjustments, ensuring the rope was tight enough to hold but not so tight as to impede circulation. Every now and then, he would look into my eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. His gaze was soft, his concern palpable, and it made me feel deeply cared for.

When he reached the end of the belt, he secured it with a neat knot, making sure it was both secure and aesthetically pleasing. He took a moment to gently press his fingers along the wraps, feeling for any signs of tension or discomfort. His touch was tender and reassuring, 

His careful attention extended to the second leg. I bent it without him having to ask for it, and I heard a satisfied hum escape his lips. He took about ten minutes to complete the tie there as well. Each movement was measured and thoughtful, his focus loving and unwavering as he worked on me. 

With the belts snugly encircling my legs, I felt an increasing sense of surrender with each passing moment. Noah’s gaze and the secure feeling of the ropes around me gradually pulled me into a deeper state of subspace. The outside world faded away, leaving just the intimate bubble we created together.

Noah’s soft voice cut through the silence, asking if I was alright. The concern in his tone, combined with his lingering touch, grounded me and made me feel cherished. His attentiveness to my comfort and the connection we shared through this experience made it easier to let go.

“Arms above your head,” he instructed softly, and I complied without hesitation. His approval came in the form of a ‘good girl,’ which filled me with a deep sense of pride for pleasing him. 

Noah’s hand rested on my knees, gently pushing them up and apart. I felt a flush spread across my entire body as he exposed me to him. His gaze was intense and appreciative, taking in every inch of me—every imperfection, every scar. It was a gaze that made me feel both vulnerable and deeply valued.

His touch was tender as he slid his hand from my neck down the valley between my breasts, moving slowly until he reached my lower belly. His fingers paused, resting over the mound between my legs. “I need this,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with need.

As he said those three words, he sank to his knees. He grasped my tied legs, pulling them closer to the edge of the bed. 

I closed my eyes as Noah’s breath fluttered against my skin, the anticipation building with each touch. His kisses began on my inner thighs, making me feel cherished and adored. When his lips brushed right below my navel, a shiver ran through me, his breath sending goosebumps all over my body, my nipples hardening in response.

“Everything’s okay,” he whispered, his voice vibrating against my sensitive skin. His words created an almost electric sensation, making my entire body tingle. “I’m going to show you right now.”

“Please,” I murmured, my voice barely above a breath.

His next kiss landed on the delicate area where my thigh met my pubic region, along the inguinal crease. The proximity of his mouth had me shivering, struggling to contain a moan.

“You can bring your arms down now, baby. Touch my hair while I have my mouth on you,” he instructed, his voice low and comforting. “I love it when you do that.”

A grin spread across my face, unable to be contained. “I know,” I replied, a hint of satisfaction in my voice.

His smile seemed to widen against my thigh, and I could feel his pleasure in the gentle way he responded. My fingers tangled in his soft locks as his mouth began its exploration between my legs. Each touch was slow, deliberate, and incredibly sensitive. He took his time, savoring every flick of his tongue and every gentle suck, creating a rhythm that was both intimate and profoundly connecting.

The unhurried pace allowed us to savor each moment, to explore the depth of our bond in silence. My body responded to him instinctively, wriggling beneath him as pleasure built. Soft, sweet moans escaped me, marking the perfect synchronization we shared in that moment. His hands roamed across my hips and lower belly, sliding up to caress my breasts and tease my nipples, adding layers of tenderness and stimulation to our connection.

Noah knew my body better than I knew it myself. When I bucked against his lips, craving more, he responded with a firm hand pressed against my lower abdomen, holding me still. Despite the pause, his tongue continued its gentle, insistent work, licking and flicking. The pleasure built up until I was shuddering and arching off the mattress, my body consumed by the climax he’d drawn from me.

Even after I came, he remained there, praising me, continuing to lick and kiss me with calm, mindful strokes. I had given him my orgasm and with it, I had released half of what I’d been holding inside since we left my father’s state. 

“That was sweet,” he commented, lifting his head from between my legs, satisfaction evident in his voice. I quivered at the sight of his lips, glistening with the evidence of my arousal. He licked them clean and even though I had just reached a nice climax, I felt ready to give him another one.

He stood up. His hands went straight to the ropes binding my wrists, deftly untying the knots. I watched him quietly, regaining my breath. I noted how he moved with a confidence that spoke of his extensive experience. Each knot he loosened revealed not just his skill but his deep understanding of me—both as a my warrior and my lover.

Once he had freed my wrists, he gently rubbed them between his large, calloused hands, his touch both soothing and reassuring. “Do you feel any pain?” he asked, his voice tender but concerned. 

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. The pressure felt nice.”

“Good,” he replied, his gaze relaxing. “I’m going to change the ties now, so that your wrists are tied to your ankles. Is that okay?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Noah.”

“Good girl.” His voice held a note of pride as he began working on the new knots. “I’m going to make you feel really good while you’re all tied up and I’m inside you, I promise.” 

His focus was intense, his hands working almost too fast for me to keep track of each knot. 

“The moment you need me to untie you,” he addded, eyes meeting mine with a commanding gaze, “just say so, okay?” 

“I will, Noah.”

“Perfect.” 

His hands continued their work, placing my wrists at the bottom of the triangle formed by my calf and thigh, efecctively tying my ahnds to my feet. The adjustment was meticulous, ensuring that my hands were now cupping my own feet. 

As he worked, I could feel the new arrangement of the ropes stretching my limbs in a way that was both restrictive and incredibly stimulating. Noah’s attention to detail was meticulous, each knot and wrap designed to heighten our connection and the sensations we shared.

My feet rested flat on the bed, the cool fabric beneath them constrasting with the heat radiating from the constriction above. I watched as Noah’s hands worked methodically, the cotton belts slipping through his fingers with ease.

He looped the belt around my wrists, pulling each end through the careful knots he had already made at my ankles. My breaths came in shallow, uneven bursts as I felt the binding tighten. Noah’s movements were almost reverent as he ensured the knots were secure yet not painful, balancing restraint with care.

Each tug of the belts brought a new sensation—tighter, more restricting—until I felt the belts drawing my limbs closer together, the tension making every muscle in my body aware of the intricate web of bondage. His fingers brushed against my skin, a fleeting, almost intimate touch before he moved away to adjust the knots with a final, authoritative tug.

As I shifted slightly, the belts creaked and shifted, an audible reminder of their grip. Noah’s eyes met mine, and there was a flicker of something inscrutable in his gaze, a blend of focus and something deeper that I couldn’t quite decipher. I was completely at his mercy now, each movement of mine dictated by the binding ropes and the skillful precision with which he had tied them.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he looked at me with a mixture of satisfaction and affection. “Are you comfortable?”

I nodded, the excitement of anticipation mingling with the comfort of being cared for so thoroughly. “Yes, Noah.”

His smile widened as he took in my bound form, his eyes filled with both desire and admiration. “You took good care of me in the tub. Now I’m going to take good care of you here, in this bed.”

He leaned down to placed his hands on my waist. At the same time his thumbs stroked my sides, he bent his head down and pressed a loving kiss to my stomach, lips lingering there with a softness that seemed at odds with the tightness of the ropes binding me. The warmth of his breath and the tender touch made me shiver in pleasure.

He lingered there for a moment longer, as if relishing the profound connection between us before he drew back just enough to speak, his voice low and hushed, imbued with both solemnity and hope. “We’re free,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me with a blend of affection and determination. “Nobody can dictate our future anymore—only we can.” With two fingers, he traced a circle around my navel. “One day, our children will grow here,” he continued, his lips and fingers replaced by his warm, broad palm, which now lay pressing tenderly on my womb. 

The words hung between us, a promise and a vision of a future that felt both distant and tantalizingly close. His eyes softened as he took in my expression, revealing a vulnerability beneath the surface of his composed exterior. A flutter of excitement danced in my stomach, mingling with a growing need to feel him inside me. At that moment, the ropes that bound me seemed almost inconsequential compared to the profound meaning behind his declaration. 

He stepped back, and the room fell into a hush, punctuated only by the soft rustle of the belts keeping me bound and the steady rhythm of our breathing. 

Noah undressed, sliding off his underwear and letting his cock spring free, hard and proud. 

With a careful, practiced hand, he adjusted my position on the bed, lifting me slightly so he could kneel comfortably between my legs. His presence was commanding and powerful—broad shoulders, strong arms, and muscular thighs—yet there was a controlled gentleness in his approach. The intensity in the way he looked at me was unsettling and deeply intimate, as if he could see past the surface to something more profound.

A shyness fluttered over me, the intensity of his stare making it hard to hold his gaze. I tried to find distraction in the room’s shadows or the patterns on the bedding.

“No,” he barked, his voice cutting through the silence with a sharp edge. “Look at me. Eyes on me.”

The command jolted me back to him There was no escape from the depth of his stare. The authority in his voice made my heart race, but there was also a strange comfort in the clarity of his demand.

I held his gaze, trying to steady my breathing. His eyes remained fixed on mine, unwavering, as if he was searching for something in me, something that only this moment of connection could reveal. The weight of his expectations pressed against me, mingling with the tightness of the ropes, creating a blend of tension and anticipation that just got me hotter.

With a grip that took me by surprise, Noah lifted my hips and settled my ass on his lap, my bent and tied legs resting at his sides, feet and hands floating mid-air. In that position, his cock was perfectly aligned with my core.

“Arch your back a little,” he instructed. “Get comfy, baby, because I’m going to enjoy my time with you like this.”

He guided me closer with a gentle pull, adjusting me until I was nestled just right. I shifted slightly, seeking the most comfortable position by resting most of my weight on my shoulders. 

A tender kiss was placed on my knee, followed by the gentle press of his thumb on my clit, making me gasp from the unexpected sensation. The touch was not harsh but warm and teasing, much like his previous caresses. He took his time, rubbing his cock against my folds, from my clit to my slit, stirring a mounting anticipation.

In one deliberate, slow thrust, he was fully inside me. A small frown appeared between his brows—a sign of his awe and fascination with how perfectly our bodies fit together. I gasped and closed my eyes momentarily, savoring the overwhelming sensation of finally having Noah inside. 

He remained still for a moment. My skin prickled with goosebumps under his scrutiny, the anticipation of his next move almost palpable. His dark eyes held a fierce intensity that should have been intimidating but instead felt deeply reassuring.

“You’re mine,” he declared.

And I felt completed. 

Because I was his. Always had been. 

And he was mine. 

As the rhythm between us began to build, his movements were tremendously delicious, a blend of passion and reverence. I couldn’t say for certain if he kept his eyes open to observe each one of my expressions and reactions, as I had closed mine, losing myself in the sensation of our bodies being joined. Each thrust, the slide of his cock inside me, the press of my lower body against his thighs—everything melded into a singular, euphoric experience. I felt as if I were floating on a cloud.

“How’s it feel?” he asked, his voice an urgent whisper that barely touched the edges of my consciousness. “Talk me through it, sweetheart. I need your words. Come on.”

“It feels so good…” I managed to respond, my voice trembling slightly. I arched my back as he entered me again, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through me. “I don’t want this to end.”

“It won’t,” he assured me.

He wasn’t talking about our lovemaking. He was talking about us, our bond, the love. 

An overwhelming surge of emotion coursed through me. Maybe it was all the love I had for him, everything I knew I would do to keep this man at my side. I opened my eyes, watery because his promise, coupled with his movements, threatened to bring me to tears. My eyes fell to the cut on his chest. 

My gaze fell to the cut on his chest, which had been stitched and now marred some of his tattoos. Despite the imperfection, it was a mark of his love, never to be seen as anything less than beautiful. That’s when my concern shifted to him.

“Are you feeling all right?” I asked softly, my head hazy from the pleasure, the friction of his cock moving in and out making my mind all fuzzy.

“I’m feeling okay,” he replied, his tone filled with genuine warmth, his movements never losing focus. “There’s nothing like this, being inside you,” he bit his lip as he observed the way his thick cock disappeared inside of me. “And you look so beautiful, taking me like this because there’s nothing else you can do. I wish you could see yourself.”

One of his hands slid down my calf, his fingers gently finding the ones resting by my foot. He grasped them tenderly, offering a small, loving squeeze.

It was these subtle gestures that had first made me fall for him. Back when we were just teenagers and our encounters were still new and thrilling, Noah had always been cautious and restrained about touching me. But whenever he sensed something wasn’t right—perhaps when I had a rough day or something kept bugging at me—he would let his hand brush mine as we walked through the forest or beside the pond, he would pretend to remove a stray leaf from my hair, or would place a flower behind my ear with a compliment. His small acts of affection were one of my favorite parts of him, something that no one else had got to experience from this implacable Samurai.

Such a charmer he’d been—still was. I just don’t think he was aware of it. His actions always spurred from his very soul, intent with love, from a soul that radiated tenderness.

What was there not to admire about this man?

I’d do anything for him. My feelings for Noah went far beyond mere love; they transcended the physical. He was my life.

In the midst of my thoughts, Noah guided our lovemaking with a steady, rhythmic intensity that left me breathless. And a while later, a powerful urge to be even closer to him took hold of me. 

I longed to be freed from the restraints, to wrap my arms around him and pull him even closer. My chest ached with the need to feel his skin pressed against mine, to close the distance between us. I needed him to understand how desperately I wanted to feel his body enveloping mine, entirely. I wanted to kiss him, to hold him in a way that our current position did not allow.

I focused on the sensations of our connection, savoring the way his touch ignited every nerve in my body. My hands itched to reach out, to cup his face and draw him into a kiss that would seal our shared ecstasy. Each time he entered me, I could feel the tension and desire crackling between us, a force that pushed us toward the edge. I could feel every pulse of his cock, every throb of his desire matching my own.

In a breathless whisper, I pleaded, “Noah, untie me now. Please.”

His eyes flickered with both determination and a hint of surprise. Without breaking our connection, he began to carefully untie the restraints that held me. 

Once he had freed me, Noah’s hands massaged my ankles and wrists to ease the tension from the binds. The attention was both soothing and arousing. As he adjusted our positions into a missionary, I eagerly wrapped my limbs around him, my heels pressing firmly into his backside. His lips traveled over my face, brushing gently against my cheeks, jaw, and down my neck, each touch fueling the fire of our connection.

Despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me, a surge of strength and dominance began to rise within. I struggled, but I finally managed to flip Noah over. I guided him onto his back. His look of surprise was fleeting, quickly replaced by a mixture of curiosity and admiration. I was careful, mindful of his injury, not wanting to cause him any discomfort or risk opening his stitches.

Once I was atop him, I took charge, riding him with a mix of passion and care. The control I exerted was exhilarating, and Noah’s expression shifted between awe and appreciation. 

Noah, as the dominating Samurai he’d been and always would be, didn’t wait more than couple of minutes to sit up, though. He wrapped his arms around my middle, and urged me to move my legs so that I was wrapped around him. His other hand tangled in my long hair, guiding me down to his mouth as my body sank onto his cock. Settled onto him, my clit brushed against his lower body, and I could feel the pressure and pleasure escalate to an intense, feverish pitch.

The new position, the way my body rubbed against his, how we moved against each other, elicited louder sounds from both of us. 

The connection was so profound that I knew I was on the brink of exploding, the pleasure mounting with each passing second. The combination of his warm embrace, the rhythmic motion, and the intense intimacy between us made it impossible for me to hold back. 

However, when Noah rested his forehead against my bare shoulder, not even a couple of minutes after, an unfamiliar dampness caressed my skin. My heart twisted at the unexpected vulnerability in his touch, and I was flooded by a sense of worry. I stopped my dance atop him, and gently cradled his face in my hands, guiding his gaze to meet mine. 

“Noah,” I whispered, my breath mingling with his, “are you crying?”

He blinked, his dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

I had never seen him crying.  

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, “I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.”

A warm, reassuring smile spread across my face.

My boy.

My soldier.

Crying in my arms.

“Noah…” I pressed a kiss to his nose, another one to his cheekbone, as words came flooding back to me. “You didn’t force me to do anything. I’m very capable of making my own decisions. Remember that line?”

He frowned at first, but soon his lips curled into a wry, relieved smile. He let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face and letting his forehead fall against my shoulder. 

I held him, none of us moving for a while. I let his hands roam my back, explore my skin. 

“I was terrified” he began, the quiet of the night welcoming his soft-spoken voice, “when I noticed you weren’t there in the market, and then when I found you in that alley with Ren, and he had you—”

“Shush,” I interrupted softly, lifting his head with a finger below his chin and pressing my forehead to his. “That’s in the past now. You don’t have to be scared anymore, and neither do I.” I traced the line of his right ear with my fingers as I inhaled him. His scent was intoxicating. It felt surreal that this man was mine; that he’d always been. Maybe it would take me forever to grasp the notion. “It’s just us from now onwards,” I continued, letting a playful, cheeky smile slip onto my lips. I lowered my voice, catching his full attention with an intentional buckle of my hips against his. “Maybe little ones in the near future. But tonight—right now— it’s just you and me, Noah.”

His smile broadened, mingling with a mix of gratitude and love. We lingered in the moment, our bodies intertwined, our breaths mingling. The weight of the world seemed to dissolve as we savored the intimacy. Our tears, our fears, and our shared pain were left behind as we focused solely on each other.

When Noah started rocking me against him again, I felt a profound sense of completion. The struggles and uncertainties of our journey seemed distant and insignificant compared to the future ahead of us. 

I closed my eyes, holding onto his shoulders. The world outside faded away, leaving only two adults lost in each other, the same ones that had been kids once; kids who knew nothing about love but learnt everything together. 

*deep breath* this is the last part of the series. The next update will likely be the epilogue, which will be divided in two parts and will take place at least two years after these events.

Thank you so much to every single one of you angels that have taken the time to read this, that have been patient with me and my slow updates, and have cheered me on to continue and have kept me motivated to write this story. Writing has always been one of my favorite things to do, and doing research for it, learning about other cultures, and getting to share this with you all and seeing your reactions literally has no price. I'm such a sap but that's okay 🤓

Having said that, epilogue part I coming soon! 🤭 ✨

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[erinwantstowrite]

Do you know roughly how much of chapter 15 are gonna be like content warnings or about peters child abuse? I'm trying to avoid as much of the triggering content as I can but I also want to read as much of the chapter as I safely can

If not do you know roughly where in the chapter that content is gonna be?

i will put be putting trigger warnings before the chapter with more detail (because i haven't written a particular scene yet so i don't know the specifics of what i'll need to mention), but i can give a general idea

(this will be below the cut. please take care of yourself. i will be talking about child abuse in many forms. there's four paragraphs, giving a general statement about the content, but will not be going into detail)

it's going to get very heavy. peter alludes to a lot of things he's been through with foster parents. in the first scene, peter has a physical reaction and starts apologizing, dick and wally both reassure him and have a talk about it, so peter will feel safe. peter does not notice that he even has this reaction. but it opens the door to dick having to ask questions so that he DOESN'T accidentally trigger peter, and that's most of the chapter. scene 1, and scene 3/4 (while there's not a break, this scene will feel like 2 different scenes, and the second part is where this is brought up) will be talking about the child abuse with dick, because dick asks about it

peter will not be having flashbacks or going into extreme detail, but he will be talking about it and some of the specifics with dick. he'll talk about the different foster parents he had, he'll talk about just how many people in his life died, he'll talk about the impact that it had on him, etc. he'll also be talking about various forms of child abuse, both physical and mental, from multiple foster parents. but he won't be talking about what westcott did beyond the day that peter ran away. peter is not ready to talk about the SA, so he won't be doing so. there will be a fic in the LoF series that delves into that (but again I'll say that I will not be including flashbacks nor describing in detail what happened to him. it will be talked about, peter will be having reactions and working through it, but i do not want to write the actual scene of it happening. and in that fic, which is a while from now, dick will also be talking about his own SA).

And I really, really have to mention that Peter's narration on this topic is unreliable and biased. the way that he views his trauma is not the way that he should, he still has a lot to go with healing from his past. His narration could be triggering because of how he views himself. he thinks that how he went about this was stupid, but no one around peter will think the same. dick will talk to him about this and peter's viewpoint will start to shift. but in the beginning, it's very sad to see

I hope to do this topic justice and in a way that doesn't hurt any of my readers. I have people that will look over this chapter to make sure that I do, but that responsibility falls on me. I value you all and I care about your well being. I get a lot of asks talking about how they can relate to Peter in LoF, and please know that even if I don't respond to these asks (potentially triggering topics) I see you and I hear you. I'm so sorry that you were left behind and hurt. You didn't deserve what happened to you, no one does. You are important and I'm glad you're with us today. Please take care of yourself. If you find that reading chapter 15 will be too much, I understand completely. I will be putting a summary of the chapter on my page to give an overview of what happened but without the details. It will be a clinical transcript of sorts.

[maleyanderecafe]

Love Hex (RPG Maker)

Created by: diamii

Genre: Horror

This is a fun little horror RPG Maker game made by the same person who made Synthetic Heart, another fun RPG yandere maker game. This game, while relatively short, is a fun little story that has a somewhat happy ending for the main character, Mina and the yandere Valen.

The story starts out simply with Mina being held captive by a handsome person who is attempting to feed her. We then see Mina attempting to create a hex/potion for getting a boyfriend. She's missing the final ingredient of a dark mage's skull and goes into a cave to retrieve it. As she goes through the cave, she finds various demonic circles with varies text on it, mostly talking about the sacrifices that are being fed to the monster. On each of these demonic circles, Mina talks to a tentacle like creature. She initially puts herself as a sacrifice to open a specific part of the dungeon, before talking about what the monster's favorite type of sacrifices are (the type that tastes like caramel), talking about what she's doing here in the cave, and then finally feeding the monster caramel as an attempt to kill it, only for it to enjoy the sweets. After getting into a locked security area, Mina is finally able to retrieve the skull she needs, but the monster seems rather unhappy considering that she's about to leave. After attempting to leave, she finds that the outside is blocked by black goo that slowly starts spreading. After unlocking another door, she finds herself inside of a laboratory. It is implied that the cult used both magic and science to keep the monster alive, but after some mishaps, was unable to contain it and got itself killed. Upon nearly leaving, the monster captures Mina, developing into a form that looks like a handsome human named Valen to appease Mina. When asking why she was looking for the skull, Mina starts to talk about her past.

She states that the entire thing was triggered by watching her brother get married. From when she was small, Mina was prophesied to bring doom to her village, thus shunning her from pretty much everyone except for her family. As her parents were busy and Mina was not close to her other siblings, she became very lonely and tried to make something that would get her a boyfriend. Valen seems to empathize with Mina as he too has been lonely for a long time. While initially going to eat her as she is a human that he enjoys the taste of, Valen seems to change his mind and instead asks if he could be her boyfriend instead. Initially Mina refuses, but Valen asks for her to play a game of chase with him. He pretty much declares that he wins by default as he's holding Mina and takes a protesting Mina into the underground. From there, we see the end scene of Mina and Valen hanging out together, with Mina complaining that she doesn't want to play house with Valen and Valen trying to eat food with Mina so that he can be like her. Mina accepts her fate as she enjoys being with Valen and continues to live with him, presumably forever.

The story itself is pretty good for a small game. I think that the idea of having magic and more scientific elements together in the cave was a cool idea and cool world building that is presented in such a small place. I also think that the reveal of why Mina wanted to have a spell/potion for a boyfriend is also pretty cool and does make sense why she would eventually have been happy being with Valen in despite being isolated because she already didn't have a lot of people whom she cared about (though I do feel bad for her parents though, since it seems that while they were busy they didn't have bad relationship or anything). It does make me wonder if releasing Valen (sort of) is what the prophecy that made Mina isolated in the first place, and if it isn't... then was the prophecy false? Would there still be something that she does that causes the village's downfall? These things seem to be left out for this game, but perhaps it can be explored in a future game. I do like that she is willing to try to trick and kill Valen for her goals, even if they don't really work at the end. She is very determined to get what she wants which was nice.

Valen as a yandere is pretty much made by Mina indirectly, considering he doesn't really seem to understand humans all that much. It seems that Valen was pretty much just used for sacrifice feeding, and initially only liked Mina because of the fact that she was a tasty sacrifice, even almost just using her as a meal. Of course, in the end, he does seem to sympathize with Mina more especially when she reveals the reason for wanting a boyfriend. He does take care in transforming into a form that she does like, and in the end does try to pretend to be more human so that Mina will like him more and try to play games with her. It is nice that he does try so hard to make sure that Mina actually does like him, even if it does seem like he doesn't fully understand what love is when it comes to humans. He does trap her and try to attend to her every need, so really both of their wishes of no longer being lonely is finally fulfilled.

While I do like this game, the one big gripe I have about it is the three codes that you have to put throughout the game. For the first one, I think you can actually find the code by using the last three numbers for each of the rituals that you go through, but if you fail, the game will automatically kill you after three tries. The other two locks seem to have no real good way of figuring out what you're supposed to type with them, with one being based off of the various grime on the number pad, which is difficult when you can hear the black goo coming after you and eventually killing you if you take too long, and the last code in the lab for the computer, which I have no idea how you were able to solve that one. I had to check the answers for the codes in the comments to find those out. Generally, games will have better clues on what you need to submit for the number puzzles, but for this one it feels like you really need a tutorial or have to stretch pretty far to figure it out, so it can be pretty frusterating to try to figure out what the codes are for that one.

Overall though, I do like this game, as it's short, it has a pretty fun and compelling story with some nice rpg maker gameplay and we get a nice yandere in the end, with a sort of happy ending. I want to be able to write a recommendation for Synthetic Heart at some point, maybe when we see more of the yandere action going on as it does seem like it has some interesting potential (but not enough for me to really talk on it more.) But I would recommend this game if you enjoy the premise of it.

[cerisefait]

Food Critic

sanji x reader

[2.4k words] [I'm working on the second part!! stay tuned]

a/n: hii! this is my first sanji fiction, hope you enjoy it. I would love to hear your thoughts about it and my reqs are open. there aren't any trigger or spoiler warnings on this fic.

summary: food critic reader goes to Baratie to enjoy a nice evening and analyze the restaurant without knowing what awaits her; a couple of romantic moments with the sous chef of the restaurant. 'apologies madam' scene included with slight changes and much more...

‘I’m going to be the greatest food critic of all time!’

The phrase echoed in your head as you stood outside the restaurant on water, otherwise known as ‘Baratie’. Ever since you were a little kid, you had one particular dream: To become one of the most respected food critics alive.

In a world full of pirates and bounty hunters, some may say your goal was boring, ordinary. Rather than fighting sea creatures and thieves, you were going from one restaurant to another, tasting all of their signature dishes; taking notes about the flavors in your mouth and the emotions each dish has brought you.

Don’t they say to follow your passion? Food has always been yours. You never saw it as a ‘boring’ task, you were enthusiastic about it.

It all started when you were a little kid; you sat there in the kitchen, watching your grandmother cook delicious smelling meals. To you, those were the best times of your childhood. Watching her skilfully chop up the vegetables, hearing the simmering pots, seeing the baked goods rise in the oven…

All of it brought you a sense of comfort. As you grew older, she allowed you to help her in the kitchen, teaching you each spice and many knife tricks.

When she sadly passed away, you were only 12. Needless to say she was your favorite relative, you made her a promise at her funeral, to learn the dishes all across the four seas.

It was her dream but when she started a family, she had to quit pursuing her goal. So you took it upon you and made her a vow in which you don't intend on breaking.

***

Once you stepped into the restaurant, you found yourself admiring the interior. Baratie’s ambiance was astonishing. You’ve been in many restaurants overseas but this place was nothing like you’ve ever seen before.

The open floor plan made the place look elegant. The choices of colors maroon, beige and wooden brown added more to the elegant look as well as the wrought iron handrails on the balconies of the second floor. The lightning was dim and there wasn’t much sunlight due to the lack of windows; it made the restaurant more alluring and mysterious.

While you were busy observing the interior, one of the hosts of the restaurant greeted you, saying

‘Welcome to Baratie, how can I help you?’

‘I would like to have a seat.’ you said, looking kindly at the man.

‘Do you have a reservation ma’am?’ He said, looking at you then directing his attention to the line behind you that had just been formed.

‘No, I don’t have one. Would it be a problem?’ You asked, batting your eyelashes. You weren’t the most experienced critic considering your age but you knew how to use your charm to get what you wanted.

He quickly looked down at the tables, searching for an available spot. There were some empty tables but looking at his attitude, you can tell that the restaurant didn’t want just any customer: Especially the ones who who looked like they could easily stir some trouble up. Lucky for you, you knew how to clean up nicely.

‘Normally, we’re very full today but we’ll be making an exception for you ma’am. If you’ll follow me...’

You followed him down the stairs just like he asked you to and he led you to your table. When you sat down, you sank into the velvety cushion of the dark red booth.

‘Here is the menu. Your waiter will be with you shortly.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

You began to wait for your waiter, as you were told. The antique table lamp’s soft yellow light reflected on your face while you listened to the background noise: Classy jazz, waiters rushing in and out of the kitchen, customers’ enjoying their dishes while chatting and clinking their glasses of wine…

Everything seemed peaceful until you heard the yelling noise coming from the kitchen. You directed your gaze towards the kitchen door, curious about what’s happening inside. Seconds after that, you saw a tall blonde man get out of the kitchen, looking annoyed as he quickly wore his jacket.

He stopped by a table full of appetizers and got a plate in his hand, holding it up to carry it around the tables.

Just as he was making his way to a nearby table, a fight seemed to occur right in front of him. Two guys were fighting over the table, the one already sitting at the table claiming it is his right to sit on the table, the other telling the opposite.

They began to talk more aggressively and one of them threw a plate of food that was sitting on the table as the blonde man stopped in front of them flashing a smile, saying

‘Now now, gentleman. You know the rules here, we don’t waste food. And there’s no fighting at Baratie.’

They didn’t seem to care about the blonde as they continued their bickering. He offered to pour them each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein, free of charge in hopes of stopping the chaos which was disturbing the other customers.

They seemed to like the idea at first, but that didn’t stop one of them from pulling his gun out only a few seconds later. The blonde was quick, just as he saw the gun he kicked the guy’s hand and sent it flying straight to the floor. He blew a few more kicks and in a blink of an eye, the two customers were laying on the ground.

After the fast paced sequence, he didn’t change his calm and -more so- annoyed attitude one bit. He took his appetizer plate back in his hand, let out a sigh and proceeded to walk away exclaiming

‘No cause for alarm, folks. Please enjoy your meals.’

Then, he walked straight to your table while being busy eyeing other tables. Without paying attention to your face or your figure, the words fell quickly from his lips.

‘Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. My name is Sanji, what can I get for you?’

‘Shitty ambiance? I couldn't take my eyes off of it ever since I came here.’

Hearing the sound of your voice, he swiftly turned his gaze on you. His expression of annoyance left its place to a more loving, soft look. He ever so slightly tilted his head to the left and put on a little smirk on his face.

‘Apologies madam, didn’t see you there.’

The tone of irritation in his voice was completely gone and now it was much more... suave.

‘You’re liking the ambiance eh? Can’t say the same about the second part ‘cuz you’ll be the only thing I can’t take my eyes off of tonight.’

You did not expect the bold flirtatious act nor the quick word play from him. Given that he caught you off guard, you were thankful for the dim lights as you felt your cheeks getting warmer. As you remained silent, he continued

‘Will you care for an aperitif to start? Or maybe a beverage. We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock…’

‘Actually, I would love to have a glass of Umeshu.’

‘I should’ve figured. Y’know, something sweet for.. someone sweet.’ He winked as he said the last part. He was shamelessly flirting with you. You turned your head sideways to avoid staring at his eyes for a second.

Normally, it would give you the ick but when he did it, you surprisingly enjoyed it. Say whatever you want; whether it’s his amazing kicking abilities, how he looks in his suit or his flirtatious personality, you can’t stop yourself from having butterflies in your stomach.

‘Anything else, madam?’

‘I also would like to order every one of your special dishes, could you do that for me?’

‘...Anything for you. Coming right away.’ He flashed you a smile before returning to the kitchen.

***

When he came back with the plates, you were starving. All of them looked amazing as he put them in front of you in a professional manner.

The waiter who greeted you didn’t lie when it came to the restaurant being busy. There were new customers coming in and out every other minute and it looked like they were short on staff tonight.

Just as he was going to strike up a conversation with you, one of the customers from a nearby table called him up. Sanji told you to enjoy your meal, excused himself and cursed to himself under his breath, hating that the precious time you could’ve spent together was going to be wasted.

When Sanji left, you started with one of the most appealing dishes: It was a buttery seafood sauté with complimentary herbs, garlic and spices. The way the flavors danced on your tongue left you speechless.

In order to note it all down in your notebook, your eyes searched for the restroom. While you were looking around, you locked eyes with Sanji.

He immediately flashed you a genuine, warm smile. You returned his smile by squinting your eyes slightly and smiling back at him, before mouthing the words ‘Where’s the restroom?’

He couldn’t (or maybe wanted to make it seem like he couldn’t) understand what you just said as he put the plates on one of the tables he was attending and made his way up to you.

When you saw him coming, you stood up and went up to him with your small bag in hand. You met in the middle and as he saw you standing, he couldn’t help but check you out from head to toe, taking his sweet time. His warm smile turned into an arrogant grin which meant he enjoyed the sight.

‘Yes madam?’ he asked, leaning slightly towards you.

‘Where can I find the restroom?’

‘Oh it’s right this way… Can I?’ He swiftly gestured to your arm. You nodded, eyes wider than usual, as he took your arm with one of his hands, lightly touched your shoulder with his other hand and turned you around.

Your breath hitched in your throat, his intoxicating smell filling up your nose as he stood right behind you. He was being careful, not to step on any boundaries.

‘So, you go straight ahead. Then turn to your left, first door to the right.’ He pointed out.

You turned your head towards him, only to realize there are a few inches between your faces. Looking up at him, you stared at his gorgeous features. At that moment, everything around you seemed to slow down. When his gaze finally met yours, you were mesmerized.

His blue eyes were shining, the way his lips curled upwards to form his pretty smile was stunning. Feeling the heat his body radiated was enough to drive you over the edge… But you were here to pursue your goal.

In order to continue the task at hand, you whispered him a thank you and went flying to the restroom. Luckily there was a table with decorations in between the sinks, giving you a place to write your notes down on.

***

Time seemed to pass by quickly as you were going back and forth between your table and the restroom. You were trying to be smooth with it but you weren't exactly acting like a professional.

Not that you were being clumsy or carefree, you were a bit amateur. Considering your age, it was understandable.

Plus, the blonde who was gazing at you all night didn't help at all. It was fun though, catching his glances every now and then, seeing his little smirk form up every time you made eye contact (occasionally with a wink), made you feel things.

You couldn't help but to think that you didn't want the night to end here. You wanted more than secret glances and formal discussions…

Just as you finished taking notes about the last dish and made your way back to your table, Sanji stopped you in your tracks, pulling you flush against his chest and moving you both to a near dark corner, trapping your body against his and the wall behind you.

Taking a step back, he looked you in the eyes, searching for a sign of distress or unwillingness.

Upon seeing the pure shock on your face turn into a more relieved look, he leaned towards you, a hand pressed against the wall over your shoulder, right next to your head.

'You a food critic?' He questioned, leaning over.

'Why do you care, waiter boy?' He put his hand on his heart, grimacing his face upon hearing your words.

'I am the sous chef of this restaurant.'‘

‘It didn't seem like it.’

‘Don't try to change the subject now, love.’ He looked deeply in your eyes, it was evident that he was growing impatient.

‘Fine, I am… but you can't tell anyone about it.’

‘Why not? You don't seem to care as you made it pretty obvious.’

‘I want to remain anonymous to be respected. Also, I don't think anyone other than you’ve noticed.’

‘Told you that I wasn't going to be able to take my eyes off of you tonight… I am a man of my word.’

And with that, both of you were laughing. It was a moment of pure sweetness. After a few seconds of the sound of your laughter filling up the empty corner, you continued with a serious tone:

‘Just… promise not to tell anyone.’

‘How about we make a deal, eh? I’ll keep your secret and we’ll have dinner tomorrow.’

‘...It’s not like I have another choice. Right?’

‘C’mon, we both know you want it as bad as I do.’

‘Keep dreaming.’ You said, making your way back to your table.

He didn’t expect you to react this way, when he saw you leaving his side he turned around, looking at you like a lost puppy. You wanted to shock him for a little bit, make him chase after you.

As you sat down, you drank your last sip of wine and took your sweet time before calling Sanji to pay the bill. He immediately went to get the bill and put it in front of you, still shaken. You checked it out, put the money in and thanked him for his service.

He was standing still in front of you as you gathered your things and got up off of the booth. Then, he hesitantly offered you his hand to give your hand a quick goodbye kiss.

You put your hand in his and said:

‘Meet me up at 7?’

He changed his posture, he was more confident now than heartbroken and gave your hand a swift kiss before telling:

‘It’ll be my pleasure.’

[ahhhwomen]

Not A Toy?

Trigger Happy AU

Part 3

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Ik ik, everything has been written in very excruciating detail so far, this one being no exception, but I promise I'm going to up the speed and intensity very soon. Also, I am sorry if this one is a bit rushed, I just wanted to get it out there. Def not my favorite chapter...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language; all mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI 18+

Warnings Part 3: Mommy kink, stalker Wanda, kidnapping (?), slightly stupid reader

Summary: Maybe you are more to Wanda than just a Toy.

Word Count: 1157

Your apartment had never been the best. When you moved in, months prior, that much became apparent. It was filthy, small, and there were large gaps between some of the floorboards. However, money was tight after you were cut off from your family, and the neighborhood wasn’t the worst. So, you took what you could.

You had lived there for all of 2 weeks before you got a roommate. In those 2 weeks, you tried to make it more pleasant and feel more like home. You got a carpet to hide the large gaps, you moved the furniture to make it feel like more space, and you deep cleaned.

As you came to learn, Jessica didn’t care much for that sort of stuff. Between college, working a part-time job, having a boyfriend, and loving parties, Jessica was barely even there. She had never bothered to do much around the apartment, she never cleaned, and never took any interest in changing things around.

It's therefore safe to say you are a bit confused as you take in the scene in front of you.

Why is your coach upside down?

You have no clue how you didn’t see it until now. It wasn’t like you, you had always praised yourself on your observation skills.

That damn policewoman was doing a number on you.

You are just about to pull your phone out when you hear a creak, another issue with the floorboards. The sound came from Jessica's room.

Your apartment has felt off ever since you came home, but now it feels like you are somewhere else entirely. Suddenly everything was colder, and your skin prickles with chills.

Your feet slowly inch closer to Jessica's door, trying to stay silent, and your hands push gently on the handle. Sweat runs down your back and you hold your breath, the tension is heavy in the air. With the handle down, you being to put a slight weight into the door. The door creaks open to reveal….

Nothing.

Your eyes scan the room, everything the same as when you left this morning. You let out a shaky breath, relieved, you close the door again.  

You remind yourself to send a quick text to your roommate about the furniture rearrangement before you walk back to the bathroom.

///////

Wanda bites back a groan as the door presses lightly against her. She can hear your hands shaking against the handle.

She had meant to get out before you came home, but you turn out to be a fast walker.

After her work was done for the day Wanda had spent a substantial amount of time tracking this roommate of yours. She was a busy girl. She worked at a local diner most of the week but had Mondays and Wednesdays off. She hung out with her boyfriend, that lived 2 blocks away, almost every day. She took a liking to people, always having to be around someone. She seemed to be your complete opposite.

By what intel Wanda gathered, you were a quiet girl, who liked to keep to yourself. You were sweet and always willing to help, but large groups of people made you uncomfortable.

You were perfect. Well-mannered, sweet, lonely. A good girl.

Hers.

Wanda is good at hiding her less savory side. Obsessive behavior never looked good on paper. She had only ever allowed herself to indulge in smaller doses. However, Wanda couldn’t just fuck this urge out with a random pretty girl she picked up like she was used to.

No.

Wanda needed you.

She needs to have you, nurse you, fuck you. She needs to hold you, have you wrapped around her like the little kitten you are. Hers, and only hers.

She just needed to push you a little.

So, she did what anyone would do, and began staging her crime scene.

Your apartment wasn’t exactly big, so how would a big fight play out in such a small space? Wanda was testing your living room when she heard your keys jingle in the hallway.

“I’m home!”

Wanda smiled a little.

You must have been so sleepy. There was a little crack in the door Wanda could look at you through, and you walked right passed the flipped coach and started getting your dinner ready. Wanda had to hold back a disapproving sigh as you picked up a microwavable dinner.

You were a growing girl who requires proper sustenance. Not, whatever was in those plastic tubs.

As the timer on the microwave counted down, you looked lost in thought. Wanda wondered what you were thinking about as your teeth sank into your lip, your scrunched-up nose indicating you were worried. Wanda's hands griped the door, if something was bothering her girl, it bothered Wanda.

Luckily you snapped out of it rather fast and got to eating.

You occur to be quite the messy eater. It was adorable the way you would huff in annoyance as the table became smothered in your mess.

Wanda made a mental note to always feed you on a mat. She didn’t want her floors to be stained like your table was.

You stood up.

Wanda couldn’t get a proper view of the bathroom from where she stood. She had intended on moving just a little bit to the left when her foot hit a loose tile.

Shit!

Wanda could hear you try to sneak over to the door, and she saw the handle slowly move downwards. If she made even the tiniest of noises Wanda knew the gig would be over. She pressed herself into the wall and held her breath.

You paused for a second when the door was almost all the way open. Wanda could hear you sigh. Then close the door again.

You make your way back to the bathroom.

Wanda stands there baffled for a second before sneaking out when she picks up the water running.

Who doesn’t open the door all the way when they think an intruder is in the house?

You just have to be happy it was only Wanda.

///////

“SOMEONE PLEASE!” The filth sobs as her voice echoes back to her.

Wanda smirks.

Don’t worry, it will all be over very soon.

[lilousmustaches]

Always keep fighting

Warnings: Depressive and insecurity thoughts.

Notes: I was always afraid of naming one of my stories "Always keep fighting" because i used to think that it had to be perfect. I think this one earned it gracefully. You have my heart in it. Rewatching Supernatural 10 years after and all of it just making the same sense to me as when i was just a kid... gave me the confirmation that i'm always going to have where to come back to. Thank you.

Summary: A very meaningful intimate conversation with the one who helped you overcome your depression many years ago. Jared Padalecki.

Platonic!Jared Padalecki x Reader / Jensen Ackles x Reader

You breathed out tired, closing your eyes feeling the sun and a slight breeze hit your face. Billie Eilish’s voice was playing max in your AirPods isolating you from the noises around like that would give you some peace of mind. 

You were in the middle of filming a season of Supernatural and honestly your life was great. Expect it wasn’t. Well… it was really, nothing really bad was happening, you had an incredible job, amazing friends, amazing fans, there was no drama. But the stress was winning you over and you could feel yourself slowly drifting away into a dark place again, just like when you were younger and what looked like a innocent wave of sadness, turned into 3 years of anti depressives. You heard once that when you have depression one time, it never go away. Not completely. You live your life “sober”, but if you don’t watch it out, any trigger can throw you into the pit once more. 

But it was adult life right? How could you escape the stress of having to do a house moving, working really hard for too many hours, being rejected for a job that you really wanted, sleeping with a coworker who you were in love with and he disappearing after… Normal adult things. There wasn’t no time to cry about it while listening to Billie Eilish. 

You opened your eyes when felt a presence besides you, and you took of your AirPods when saw Jared installing himself near you, in the bench below a tree that was located in a quiet spot in the supernatural set. He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking straight ahead like everything was normal. 

“Hi Jar.” You said still a little confused but waiting to see what this was about. 

“Hi (Y/N)” He said simply still looking ahead. “What were you listening to?” 

“New Billie’s album.” You said with a little smile and Jared finally looking at you with an excited face, he was wearing his grey beanie and a white hoodie. 

“It’s so good right?” He said making you chuckle. 

“Yeah…” You answered frowning your eyebrows. “What are you doing here Jar? I thought you didn’t even had scenes today.” 

“Had some audio problems I had to solve for that forest scene.” He explained and turned his attention straight ahead again. “And thought it would be a good opportunity to check on you.” 

“Check on me?” You asked laughing a bit confused. “You see me practically everyday” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I knew we had to talk.” He said turning more serious and your heart started to sunk in your chest. “I know you (Y/N). For real.”

You sighed giving up on trying to hide, Jared was one of your best friends and you two always understood each other very well. That included noticing each other’s mood swings and knowing all about the other’s personal life’s. You stayed quiet for a few seconds before breathing out. 

“I didn’t get that part that I really wanted.” You admitted feeling almost ashamed of saying out loud, sensing a bitter taste in your mouth. It was the main role for an adaptation of a book that you loved, and you felt like you were the perfect person for it. Apparently not. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I know how excited you were.” He said quietly putting his arm around your shoulder to give a squeeze. “Did they tell you why?” 

“Nothing concrete.” You struggled. “Random excuses and pre written messages.” 

“That sucks.” He agreed and made a long pause. “But it was just another project, other ones will appear and besides… it would mess up your schedule with Supernatural!”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him with a little smile. 

“Jared we both know Supernatural is coming to an end. Everybody is moving on, thinking about what to do next. You’re already writing your project, hell, Jensen is in L.A right now signing contracts for The Boys.” You said and saw him struggling on what to say. He knew you were right. You entered the Supernatural cast many years ago and it was like a dream coming true. Your career got some much better, the working environment was everything you could ever ask for, you met your best friends and had incredible fans. Being a female character in the show, you didn’t think you would last that much. But you did and you were happy about it. But all the things in life get to a point when you start wanting more, and now, knowing that Supernatural has to end, you found yourself lost. Stagnated. Scared what would happen to your career after this. You were a few years younger than J2 and thought the industry would be open to welcome you, but wasn’t at all what was happening. 

“(Y/N) we still have, at least, one year before we will be really done with Supernatural. That gives you more than enough time to figure it out.” He said like it was obvious. 

“Jar, I know” You said with a sad smile looking at him. “All the rationalized things you were going to say to me, already crossed my mind. I know everything is technically ok. I’m just…” You stopped yourself sighing, gathering the courage to admit it. “I’m just sad.”  

Jared looked at you with a suffered expression and you saw for a split second a look of surprise in his face.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful to the universe, God, or whatever there is out there.” You continued making him open a small smile. “I know I have time, I just moved to a better apartment, I should be thankful. But I’m just so sad. I don’t even know how to explain it.” 

“I understand it.” He said sincerely looking straight into your eyes, giving you all of his attention. “The guilt that comes with having everything great around you and feeling all of this. Believe me, I do.” Jared said and you knew what he was talking about. About his depressed phase that gave life to all of the campaigns. You two shared a lot of conversations in that period, specially because you had history as well.  “I noticed you were not acting like yourself these past days, I was waiting for you to come talk to me, like you always had.” 

You looked away again feeling a bit ashamed. 

“I didn’t feel like talking.” 

“(Y/N).” He said turning his body to face you, making you look at him again. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling like this. You were one of the people who helped the most when I was depressed. You remember what you would say? That it wasn’t my fault, it was just literally a chemical default in my brain. That’s what depression is. A sickness that affects our brains. You passed through a lot of stress these last weeks, it’s completely understandable the way you’re feeling.” Jared said serious squeezing your shoulder. You closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying.

“I just feel like I’m not enough.” You admitted and finally let one tear drop. Jared stayed in silence, making you open your eyes seeing him with a hard expression looking at you like he trying to read you.

“There is another reason why you’re feeling like this?” He asked and you looked down, wondering if you should tell him or not. 

“Hmm I kinda got ghosted?” You said and saw him raise an eyebrow. “Well, no. I know the guy is super busy right now, I don’t blame him. But there’s a little voice in my head telling that it was the perfect timing to get out of the situation and not give me further explanation that he in fact.. don’t want me that way.” 

“Are we talking about Jensen?” Jared asked in a funny way and laughed when saw your surprised face. “(Y/N), I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to know but he told me that you guys slept together after that night we were in his house…” 

“Yeah, I should have figured this out.” You said allowing yourself to chuckle, running your hand over your face. “So yeah, this finally happened…” 

“Finally!” He exclaimed happily trowing his hands in the air. 

You and Jensen were always unfinished business. When you entered the series, you were young, single and adventurous and it didn’t take long to start crushing on Jensen. Hard. The kind of crush you weren’t even functioning right when he was around. Looking at it right now, maybe it was in that moment that your bond with Jared started to grow, he was always your confident. But none of it mattered, because Jensen… wasn’t single. And eventually you got over it, it was never going to happen so why was the point of growing expectations. Until Jensen wasn’t in a relationship anymore, there were flirts here and there, what of course didn’t last long because you were already meeting someone. And for years and years it was like that, you were simply never single at the same time. When all of that changed some months ago, when the two of you ended long last relationships. But it was really two weeks before that it all turned very real. 

Flashback on

You had  just shooted the mid season finale and man, you were tired. Everyone was going to get 1 week away from filming, but that didn’t mean vacation days. You were in the middle of an, very overwhelming, apartment moving in Vancouver and in the end of the week, you had a trip planned to Chicago to participate in the first day of a Supernatural Convention. The boys were going to get a second week off to attend to more appointments, but the directors wanted you, Misha and other secondary characters to advance the maximum of scenes possible. 

To celebrate and just cool off for a while, Jensen invited you, Jared and Misha to eat some pizza and drink some beers in his place. In the next day, he and Misha were already going to travel to L.A and Jared to Austin, to see his family. 

“So it’s already late and I need some sleep before catching that plane.” Misha said getting up of the chair he was in. “Have a safe fight you guys, and (Y/N) see you on Friday?” He asked and you nodded giving him a small smile. He was going to be your pair to the Chicago Convention, and the two of you would come back together to Vancouver, not even crossing paths with J2 because there was going to attend just the third day of #SpnChicago.

“Yeah, actually I’m going to enjoy the lead and get going as well.” Jared said sighing getting up, slapping hands with Jensen and then turning to you. “You comin’ also?”  

You didn’t want to go actually. It has been ages since you last went out with them like that and it was the first time in days that you were able to get away from your problems. You looked at Jensen to see what the thought and caught he already looking at you, denying with his head. 

“Nah (Y/N), we still have that wine you gave me for my birthday to drink.” Jensen said getting up from the couch you were in, to open the door for the boys. “Stay as long as you want.”

“I think I’m to stay.” You agreed. “Have a safe fight guys.” 

With all of the goodbyes being said, Jensen closed the door of his apartment immediately disappearing into the kitchen. He came back with two glasses of red wine, extending one to you while he returned to his previous place, sitting with his whole body turned to you and you did the same.

“I can’t believe you still didn’t drink that.” You chuckled. 

“Well, of course not! It was your gift, nothing more fair than drinking it with you.” He said like it was obvious, extending his glass. “Cheers” 

Half bottle after, you both were already tipsy, laughing about everything and somehow, closer to each other than before. You spoke about the series, about the bittersweet feeling of it ending. About how excited he was for Soldier Boy and at the same time nervous. He listened to you speak about the role you were auditioning for and gave you his whole support. You even gossiped a little, about Misha’s divorce. After that, somehow the conversation got to the point of relationships and you both shared a lot of thoughts and insecurities about it. 

Jensen smiled when the conversation got to a pause, letting his hand fall to rest in your arm that was leaning in the sofa. You hold your breath when felt his thumb slowly starting to caress you and your belly suddenly got cold when he started to stare at you.

“I just can’t believe that we’re finally single at the same time.” Jensen chuckled in a hoarse voice. You bite your lip, resting your glass into the center table and saw him doing the same thing. 

“That makes a difference?” You challenged him seeing him grin. 

“You know it does, sweetheart.” He said putting a strand of hair behind your ear and you wondered if he could hear the sound of your heart beating. “I always knew you had a crush on me.” 

“I did not.” You said faking a false indignation and you both laughed. “I actually thought it was the other way around.” 

“Guilty.” He admitted making you gulp. “All of those years… us trying to move on from each other. And look at us now… single at our thirties, at the same place we would be in since the start if we weren’t so damn stubborns.” 

You stayed in silence for a few seconds, staring each other like you could see each other’s souls. His eyes were in a dark green filled with lust and when you saw his glance lowering to your lips, you knew you couldn’t take any more of that.

“Kiss me Jensen.” 

“You have no idea on how many years I’ve waited for you to say that.” 

And you didn’t had to ask twice.

XXxxXXXxxxXXXxxXX

You opened your eyes confused still in a dark room, and in a very comfortable bed. You glanced at your phone in the bedside table seeing it was already 12h. The memories from last night started to invade your mind, making you sit up in a rush and frown when you noticed that Jensen wasn’t there. 

Oh right, he had a flight to catch. 

Wearing one of his shirts and his flipflops you found next to his bed, you walked until the living room and saw in his dinning table, an order bag from your favorite bakery and a little post it. 

“Morning sweetheart, 

I’m sorry If I couldn’t wake up by your side today. My flight leaves 8:30 am and I didn’t want to bother you.

I ordered your favorites things from that French bakery you like, to compensate it.

Last night was amazing and I can’t wait to see you again. 

Make yourself at home, stay as long as you want.

-Jensen.” 

You suppressed a smile feeling like a damn teenager, with all of that butterflies in your belly. This really happened. You and Jensen. 

You laughed adjusting yourself in one of the chairs, you had a delicious breakfast waiting for you after all. 

Flashback Off

That day you woke up alone in Jensen’s house, you passed still a few hours there before going back to your reality. The keys weren’t really a problem cause he had an electronic lock. You send him a photo of you eating the breakfast, which he rapidity replied with an emoji of heart eyes. 

But of course, your mind needed to start sabotaging you. You knew Jensen wasn’t the type of guy to text a lot, and you weren’t teenagers with no responsibilities, you were both busy as fuck. But you would be lying if you said if you didn’t expect a little more. Not even seeing his face for 2 weeks after you had sex, gave you so much spare time to question yourself. 

Had he really liked? He was regretting it? He realized you were actually better as friends? Why he didn’t answer your meme? How your relationship would be when he got back from L.A?

“Look.” Jared started after you explained all of it to him. “Don’t beat yourself for feeling it, your feelings are valid and I can see where they are coming from.” 

“It’s true that he could have been more present, but we both know how Jensen is  when comes to answering messages.” Jared continued laughing humorless. “But c’mom (Y/N), it’s you and Jensen were talking about! The guy has been wanting you for years.” 

“I don’t know Jar.” You sighed. “It’s like my mind knows the rationalized facts but still chose to give me the wrong answers.” 

“Are you eating right?” He asked all of that sudden surprising you. 

“Yeah…” You started and huffed when saw his accusatory face. “Ok, maybe I’m skipping breakfast.” You admitted and rolled your eyes when he didn’t back down. “No, I’m not eating right. Are you happy?” 

“No!” He cried. “You’re under stress, you’re isolating yourself, a lot of things are happening in the same time, you’re not eating right, you’re not exercising. You’re going running with me tomorrow by the way.” 

“Jared you know I hate running” You said indignant.

“I don’t care.” He cut you off. “What I’m trying to say is that you and me both… (Y/N) we have to look out for ourselves, you know that. I don’t think you’re depressed again but I think you’re in the edge of it.” Jared said making you shiver. You thought about it, damn you thought you already were. But hearing it from your best friend’s mouth, who always went to hell and back to help you, was rough. Really rough. 

“I…” You started slowly afraid of the words that was going to come back out of your mouth. “I would never forgive myself if I let me go back to that dark hole I was 10 years ago.” 

“Then don’t.” Jared struggled like it was the point of the whole conversation until now. “Can you imagine all the things you would have missed if you gave up by the first wave of depression? Young (Y/N) would have not believe she would sleep with Jensen Ackles.” He said mocking you to lighten up the mood a little bit and you allowed yourself to laugh even if was pretty hard listening to all of that. 

“Call your therapist. I’m going to ask to the producers to give you one more week off.” He continued and you open your mouth ready to argue with that nonsense. “Don’t argue with me on that one. You already have tons of advanced scenes, you need time to rest. And… stop taking life so serious honey, you have time, you’re going to figure out ok? Let yourself be surprised by it.” 

Jared said searching your eyes and saw you nodding slowly. He pulled you for a tight hug resting his head on top of yours. Your eyes were closed and for the first time in a week, you breathed out feeling calmer. Not even Billie Eilish accomplished this. 

“What do we do?” He asked in a slash joking slash serious tone, speaking like you were a little child. 

“We always keep fighting?” You said a little unsure and felt his chest vibrate when he started to laugh. 

“That’s my girl.” Jared said tightening the hug before backing away. “I love you.” 

“I love you too moose.” You said with a small smile feeling a lot better. “Thank you.” 

“I’m always here.” He said getting up. “I need to go back now.” 

You nodded and when you were in the point of putting back your AirPods, he stopped, some steps away from the bench you were. 

“Oh… and (Y/N). Jensen already arrived from L.A” He smiled. “Let life surprise you.” 

You denied with your head letting a small laugh escape from your lips, when you were reliving all of this conversation. One thing that Jared said was completely right, young (Y/N) would have been so proud and surprised by your accomplishments. You survived. This was an everyday motive to be proud already. Your thoughts were interrupted when the screen of your phone lighted up with a notification. 

“Hey sweetheart… I’m finally back in Vancouver and dying to see you. There is so much I want to tell you. And so much I wanna do to you… 

What do you say about going to that Italian restaurant at 20h? I will pick you up. 

Always yours,

Jensen.” 

Tagging: @esoltis280@smoothdogsgirl@helloangelicaaaaa@sleepylunarwolf​ @sympathyforluci​ @mirandaaustin93​ @atc74​ @spnbaby-67​ @reginaphalange2403​ @hi-my-name-is-riley​ @mychemicalimagines​ @multifandomlover121 @nyotamalfoy

[horizon-verizon]

tbh there was no reason to say that alicent and haelena were beloved by the smallfolk. they're part in starting the war that put the smallfolk to their knees, it's more reasonable for them to be hated than loved

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Helaena's inactivity works well for her reputation (in-world and out) under the post-Fall of KL situation bc she's surrounded by more actively ruling women and actively ruling women are more under fire than those who ruler for a man, work behind the scenes, or directly rule. Since female rulership is not favored and even suspicious under Andal-Faith patriarchy.

Her own inactivity and the Faith-Andal social expectation of an ideal queen consort to be just a womb-for-heirs can do nothing to spoil the smallfolk's already favorable image/idea of her...bc she doesn't do anything that could affect said image.

Rhaenyra is the "bad guy" for the taxes and trying to rule; Helaena is the "good guy", for not ruling at all (and sitting there ready for symbolic use).

The whole point of GRRM writing about who was "loved" as a Queen and who wasn't was to point out how people in KL characterized a "good" Queen by her innocence, "sweetness" that is really their non-rulership and inactivity. Rhaenyra ruled obviously and directly, while Alicent ruled through others and for her sons in their absence while never having to really put down riots aside from the one she triggered by displaying a dragon's head through the streets. Alicent, unlike Rhaenyra, did not have to contend with rumors being spread about her specifically to destabilize her hand. Helaena didn't rule at all she was always just a consort who affected Aegon only once and that was accompanied by Alicent and other councilmen calming Aegon down when he wanted to imprison and kill Rhaenyra...nothing to do w/the smallfolk.

Yes, Helaena was a kinder, "gentler" person than those around her and even before the war she could have been loved for that....but she was also the most passive & accessory person than those around her and never effected any policies or laws, unlike Alysanne. Helaena never had be into a position as to decided what strategy or tactic to win smallfolk over or to support a city or defend against attackers to said city or to protect her family's image, prestige, etc. other than birthing and nurturing heirs. She never had to implement any unsavory taxes like Jaehaerys-Rego Draz or Rhaenyra-Bartimos or Rogar/Alyssa-Edwell or even just Alicent with her choice to drag around a dragon head. Or Dany with her opening the fighting pits to save her people, deciding not to kill her hostages, releasing a prisoner some of her council advised her not to, trying to get Drogo to stop the rape of Lhazarene women, etc. So of course she doesn't get any hate from anyone, much less the smallfolk who'd be most affected.

Remember that before the war, Rhaenyra's "Realm's Delight" moniker was also her image-advantaged(?) from the singers giving said name (bc child-Rhaenyra was seen as "delightful" at court where those singers are as they also were trying to gain favor from Viserys).

Likely, Viserys and his council used said moniker to their advantage and let their audience develop a stronger impression of Rhaenyra's overall loveliness. And not bc her child self--the precociousness, the beauty, etc.--wasn't real nor not bc she didn't grow up to be actually very beautiful, but bc it helped to bolster her image, this girl who would need a lot to supplement her newfound heirship since she was female.

Remember, too, how Daenaera Velaryon's childhood beauty was lauded and intertwined with her arrival to KL and the Maiden's Ball? Yeah.

It was worked with for Rhaenyra's later Riverland tour and worked to get the riverlords more on her side. this is the nature of the "two-faced coin" that F&B EXPLICITLY stated were of love and hate ("Rhaenyra Triumphant"):

The smallfolk did not know Helaena as subjects--esp peasants--can't personally know their leaders and their families. They love an idea of her; they hate an idea of Rhaenyra. And both images go through exchanges from the circumstances, not ONLY through the person's actions. And tbh and as the book tries to tell us, that is the best position a queen (consort) could have when she is surrounded by women (dowager, consort, regnant whatever) who take on a more active, male-conceived role in leadership.

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This is bigger than "who was the bitch-queen" or the "perfect queen"?...precisely bc there is no such thing as a "perfect" queen aside form the queen who does nothing at all but be a womb for heirs. And if she does do charities, it's not even guaranteed to be exclusively be for the smallfolk. Alysanne was genuinely loved as a queen bc everyone could see how she affected Jaehaerys, she used said influence to make better laws for smallfolk and it was very obvious and public CONSTANTLY, went--by herself--to create women's courts, AND was she visually pretty. Helaena does not have such influence nor initiative; so the love for her cannot be from anything she did but what she stands for in the memory of the smallfolk, who at the were starving and in constant survival mode, desperate for economic and other types of "relief" (that yes, they should have gotten but didn't from noble warfare upending their already probs not-so-great abilities to sustain themselves pre-war), looking for something and anything like safety if not outright real physical safety.

This has interesting commentary and scenarios of what queenship means and how quickly the "coin" of favor of the public--noble or smallfolk, but esp the smallfolk--can turn! And it turns for the smallfolk depending on the immediate results of a leader's actions or to contrast an imagined/real "better" past against the reality under the current leader (Aerys II vs post-Robert's death).

Even way before this, we constantly hear from Jaehaerys I's early reign about "words are wind" and words vs action...let's piece things together, people!